LIB  R  ARY 

OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


Revived SEP .13.1 8?3</  , 

Accessions  No.&LfJ.C.       Shelf  No. 


THE 


SCIENCE   OF  RHETORIC: 


AN   INTRODUCTION   TO   THE 


LAWS   OE   EFFECTIVE  DISCOURSE 


BY 

DAVID   J.   HILL,    LJ.-.D., 

PRESIDENT   OF   THE  UNIVERSITY  OP  ROCHESTER,   AND  AUTHOR   OF    KUJ/S 
RHETORICAL  SERIES   AND   THE   ELEMENTS   OF  PSYCHOLOGY. 


**  These  rules,  of  old  discovered,  not  devised, 
Are  Nature  still,  but  Nature  methodised." 


SHELDON   &  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  &  CHICAGO. 


COPTKIGHT. 

2BXLDON    &     COMFAVi 
KJ77. 


THIS  book  is  not  designed  as  an  introduction  to 
English  composition,  but  rather  as  a  systematic  pre- 
sentation of  the  laws  of  discourse,  for  advanced  classes. 

Most  of  the  text-books  on  Rhetoric  take  a  one-sided 
view  of  the  subject.  Dr.  Whately  has  treated  Rhetoric 
as  a  branch  of  Logic,  making  it  "  the  art  of  inventing 
and  arranging  arguments  ; "  Dr.  Blair  treats  it  as  a 
department  of  applied  ^Esthetics,  as  if  it  were  a  purely 
critical  art ;  Dr.  Theremin  regards  it  as  belonging  to 
Ethics,  as  if  eloquence  were  a  virtue.  This  little  work 
aims  to  explain  the  whole  theory  of  effective  discourse, 
for  whatever  purpose  and  in  whatever  form  it  may  be 
used.  The  specific  province  of  the  rhetorician  is  to 
render  given  ideas  effective  in  producing  mental 
changes  in  others.  Rhetoric  treats  of  thought  mili- 
tant. Logic  furnishes  conceptions  which  are  formally 
true;  ^Esthetics,  conceptions  which  are  beautiful; 
Ethics,  conceptions  which  are  just  Rhetoric  takes 
these  conceptions  and  .establishes  them  .n  the  mind 
of  another. 

Rhetoricians  have  frequently  regarded  Invention  as 
a  pnr*  of  Rhetoric.  Invention  implies  the  production 
of  acme  particular  kind  of  thought,  conditioned  by  the 
nature  of  the  subject-mat/ter.  What  propositions  are 


i  PBEFACB. 

to  be  maintained  by  the  lawyer,  the  theologian,  the 
scientist,  or  the  critic,  must  depend  upon  the  facts  of 
law,  theology,  science  and  criticism.  The  methods  of 
investigation  are  different  in  the  various  departments 
3f  thought.  Hence  no  truly  useful  rules  can  be  given 
on  this  subject.  The  truth  has  been  forcibly  stated  by 
John  Stuart  Mill.  He  says  :  "  Invention,  though  it 
can  be  cultivated,  cannot  be  reduced  to  rule  ;  there  is 
no  science  which  will  enable  a  man  to  bethink  himself 
of  that  which  will  suit  his  purpose.  But  when  he  lias 
thought  of  something,  science  will  tell  him  whether 
that  which  he  has  thought  of  will  suit  his  purpose  or 
not." 

Disposition  has  often  been  made  a  distinct  division 
of  Rhetoric.  The  arrangement  of  matter  contributes 
greatly  to  the  effectiveness  of  discourse,  but  is  so  con- 
ditioned by  the  nature  of  the  subject-matter,  that  it 
cannot  properly  be  made  a  distinct  department  of 
rhetorical  science.  The  parts  of  a  Description,  Narra- 
tion, Exposition,  or  Argument  should  be  arranged  ac- 
cording to  the  specific  laws  of  these  different  kinds  of 
discourse.  Disposition  has  been  treated  in  connection 
with  the  different  classes  of  ideas,  and  not  as  a  distinct 
topic.  No  recognition  is  taken  of  the  traditional  di- 
vision of  a  Discourse  into  (1)  Introduction,  (2)  Divis- 
ion, (3)  Narration,  (4)  Explication,  and  (5)  Perora- 
tion. This  is  regarded  as  mechanical  and  conven- 
tional. There  is  often  nothing  to  divide,  or  nothing 
;o  narrate,  or  nothing  to  explicate.  All  this  depends 
upon  the  nature  of  the  subject-matter.  As  a  rule,  the 
less  conventional  the  division  of  a  discourse  the  better. 

1 1  has  been  customary  to  introduce  into  works  on 
Rhetoric  some  discussion  of  Taste,  Beuuty,  Sublimity, 


PREFACE.  O 

etc.  These  topics  belong  strictly  to  Esthetics,  a 
division  of  science  well  worthy  of  the  attention  whi^b 
is  now  bestowed  upon  it  by  advanced  educators,  and 
which  will  soon  co-ordinate  with  Logic  and  Ethics  as 
a  study  in  the  college  curriculum.  It  is  as  reasonable 
to  discuss  the  nature  of  truth  or  of  right  in  a  text-book 
on  Rhetoric,  as  to  admit  the  discussion  of  Taste, 
Beauty  and  Sublimity.  Surely  there  is  as  good  a 
reason  why  our  sentiments  should  be  true  and  just,  aa 
why  they  should  be  beautiful. 

Elocution  has  long  been  regarded  as  a  part  of 
Rhetoric,  but  it  is  by  itself  too  important  and  extensive 
a  subject  to  be  treated  as  a  division  of  rhetorical  science. 
It  does,  indeed,  contribute  to  render  spoken  discourse 
more  effective,  but  so  does  elegant  chirography  or  clear 
typography  improve  the  effectiveness  of  written 
thought.  Rhetoric  treats  of  discourse  in  general,  not 
of  written  or  spoken  discourse  in  particular. 

It  has  been  common  in  treatises  on  Rhetoric  to  give 
some  account  of  the  Origin  and  Progress  of  Language. 
There  is  no  reason  why  this  subject  should  be  treated  of 
in  connection  with  Rhetoric,  since  language  is  neither 
a  more  nor  a  less  perfect  instrument  of  expression  from 
our  knowing  its  origin  and  history.  The  Science  of 
Language  is  now  an  independent  department  of 
knowledge,  and  deserves  attention  as  such. 

Rhetoricians  have  frequently  included  the  Forms 
of  Composition  as  a  part  of  their  science.  It  is  evi- 
dent that  completed  literary  works,  such  as  epics, 
dramas,  histories,  novels,  etc.,  belong  to  Literature, 
vr.d  their  classification  pertains  to  the  critical  section 
of  that  department.  If  it  be  claimed  that  Rhetoric 
treats  of  the  means  whereby  these  forms  of  composition 


6  PBEFAOE. 

are  made  excellent,  it  may  be  answered  that  the  pro 
duction  of  such  works  involves  two  processes  :  (1)  tnat 
of  rendering  certain  given  ideas  effective  ;  and  (2)  that 
<.-f  selecting  and  combining  suitable  ideas  fora  particu- 
lar kind  of  composition.  The  first  process  is  rhetorical, 
and  is  the  same  in  all  composition  ;  the  second  is  tech- 
nical, and  conditioned  by  the  purpose  of  the  writer ; 
the  first  is  the  work  of  the  rhetorician  ;  the  second  is 
the  work  of  the  dramatist,  historian,  or  novelist,  as 
such.  The  poet  and  the  theologian  alike  make  use  of 
Rhetoric,  but,  in  addition,  the  poet  must  study  Poetics, 
and  the  preacher  Homile*fcics.  Rhetoric  is  not  the 
science  of  play- writing  or  of  preaching,  but  of  rendering 
given  ideas  effective,  whether  in  a  play  or  in  a  sermon. 

The  old  terms  Purity,  Propriety,  Precision,  Clear- 
ness, Vivacity,  etc.,  have  not  been  used  in  this  treatise, 
partly  because  some  of  them  are  vague  from  their  figu- 
rative use,  but  chiefly  because  they  are  not  distinct 
qualities  of  Style,  and  the  division  of  properties  denoted 
by  them  involves  repetition  or  incompleteness. 

Ha  ring  given  reasons  for  the  exclusion  of  some 
topics  which  have  commonly  appeared  in  works  on 
Rhetoric,  I  shall  now  explain  why  some  new  ones  have 
6een  inserted. 

Sufficient  prominence  has  not  been  given  to  the 
relation  between  thought  and  its  expression.  This 
topic  has  been  somewhat  fully  discussed  in  the 
Introduction. 

The  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  language  as  a 
medium  of  expression  in  comparison  with  other  means 
of  communicating  ideas,  have  been  fully  exhibited,  in 
order  that  the  peculiar  conditions  of  verbal  expression 
might  be  realized. 


PREFACE.  7 

The  consideration  of  the  Laws  of  Mind  may  seero 
strange  to  those  who  have  regarded  Ehetoric  as  dealing 
only  with  the  communication  of  thought.  But  if  the 
rhetorical  process  aims  at  effecting  mental  changes,  the 
laws  according  to  which  those  changes  must  take  place 
form  an  important  part  of  rhetorical  science.  The 
treatment  of  Age  as  furnishing  particular  laws  of  mind, 
is  not  new.  In  Aristotle's  .Rhetoric,  three  chapters  are 
devoted  to  this  topic.  Experience  and  Affiliation  aro 
not  less  important  modifiers  of  the  human  mind,  and 
deserve  the  closest  attention  of  the  rhetorician. 

That  expression  is  conditioned  by  the  nature  of  the 
idea  to  be  conveyed  is  vaguely  acknowledged  by  most 
works  on  Rhetoric.  The  Laws  of  Idea,  based  upon 
the  essential  nature  of  the  four  elementary  classes  of 
ideas,  are  believed  to  be  of  great  importance. 

The  Laws  of  Form  are  here  for  the  first  time  de- 
rived from  a  single  principle.  The  Law  of  Mental 
Economy,  as  enunciated  by  Spencer,  has  been  so  modi- 
fied and  developed  as  to  refer  all  the  valid  precepts  of 
Style  to  a  single  law,  thus  affording  to  Expression  what 
Aristotle's  dictum  affords  to  Deductive  Reasoning. 
Taken  in  connection  with  the  laws  of  Association, 
h  is  Law  of  Economy  at  once  explains  the  great  value 
of  Figurative  Language,  and  furnishes  rational  rules 
for  its  use. 

A  systematic  analysis,  by  insuring  a  progressive  ex- 
position and  avoiding  repetition,  enables  the  learner  to 
master  the  whole  work  in  a  very  short  time.  Notwith- 
standing the  compendious  form  in  which  the  subject  is 
presented,  it  is  believed  that  the  student  will  be  able  tc 
gee  the  reason  for  everything  as  he  proceeds,  and  it  is 
hoped  that  teachers  who  may  use  the  book  will  be  able 


8  PREFACE. 

fco  supplement  it  with  oral  illustrations  The  Exercises 
at  the  end  of  the  book  are  regarded  as  an  important 
[\  Idition,  and  their  use  in  the  class-room  may  be  made 
highly  profitable.  The  topical  method  seems  to  be  the 
only  proper  mode  of  recitation  for  advanced  students, 
and  this  work  has  been  especially  designed  for  that 
method.  The  headings,  however,  may  be  used  as 
questions  by  those  who  prefer  the  catechetical  method 
of  reciting. 

It  is  not  claimed  that  any  new  precepts  of  composi- 
tion have  been  derived  from  the  treatment  here  adopted, 
The  merit  of  the  plan  is  believed  to  be  simply  that  of 
scientific  analysis,  furnishing  the  rationale  of  such 
rules  as  have  long  been  laid  down  by  rhetoricians. 
Astronomy  creates  no  new  celestial  movements  ;  it 
simply  aids  us  in  comprehending  those  which  were  ob- 
served but  not  understood  by  the  earliest  shepherds  of 
our  race.  Ehetoric  cannot  make  laws  for  composition, 
but  it  can  discover  them,  and  explain  why  poetry  pleases 
and  eloquence  wins,  by  referring  their  effects  to  the 
laws  of  mind  and  language. 

DAVID  J.  HILL. 

July,  1877. 


JTTRODUCTION  ...............  . 

1.  Essential  Elements  of  Discourse  ........  '. 

2.  The  Relations  of  Thought  and  Language 

(1)  Language  and  Thought  Separable 

(2)  Language  an  Aid  to  Thought 

(3)  Language  Abbreviates  Thinking 

(4)  Language  Vitiates  Thought 

(5)  Language  an  Instrument  of  Analysis 

3.  Modes  of  Expressing  Ideas 

(1)  Drawing 

(2)  Painting 

(3)  Scul  pture 

(4)  Language 

4.  Restrictions  of  Formal  Art 

(1)  Motion 

(2)  Time 

(3)  Power 

(4)  Penetrative  Imagination 
0    Restrictions  of  Language 

(1)  Lessing's  Limitation 

(2)  The  Symbolic  Character  of  Words 

(3)  The  Uncertainty  of  Words  as  a  Medium 

(4)  Language  an  Impediment 
0    excellence  of  Style  Relative 

V    The  Difference  between  Prose  and  Poetry 

(1)  Aristotle's  Opinion 

(2)  Bacon's  Opinion 

(3)  Coleridge's  Opinion 

(4)  Ruskin's  Opinion 

(5)  Whately's  Opinion 

(6)  The  True  Difference  Based  on  Effects 

(7)  The  Difference  Relative 

(8)  Versification  a  Part  of  Grammar 
i.  The  Province  of  Rhetoric 

>.  Related  Sciences 

(1)  Grammar 

(2)  Logic  ........ 

(3)  Esthetics 

(4)  Psychology.... 


19 
IS 
19 

30 
21 


24 
24 
24 
25 
25 


(5)  Elocution 
D 


10   Departments  of  Rhetoric 


29 
29 
30 
81 
32 
3£ 
33 
34 
34 
34 
34 
34 
35 
36 
3? 
37 
38 
38 
38 
38 
38 
38 
39 


BOOK   L—  LAWS   OF   MIND. 


1.  Method  of  Treatment  Explained  ..................................  43 

2.  Classification  of  Mental  Phenomena  ........................  .....  43 

8.  Relations  of  these  Phenomena  .....  ...............................  43 

4.  Division  of  this  Book  ..............................   ...............  44 


10  ANALYSIS. 

CHAPTER   I. 
THE  GENERAL  LAWS  OF  MIND. 

SECTION    I. — INTELLECT. 

PAOI 

REASON 45 

1.  Nature  of  the  Laws  of  Thought 45 

2.  Rhetorical  Use  of  the  Laws  of  Thought 46 

3.  Direct  Address  to  the  Reason 47 

4.  General  Confidence  in  Reason 47 

5.  Permanence  of  Fallacious  Notions . . , 48 

6.  Importance  of  the  Laws  of  Thought 48 

I !  .—IMAGINATION 49 

1.  Attention 49 

2.  Belief 49 

3.  Action 50 

III.  MEMORY 50 

1.  Conviction 50 

2.  Persuasion 51 

3.  Language 51 

SECTION   II. — THE   FEELINGS. 

I.     -CLASSIFICATION 52 

1.  Necessary  Imperfection 52 

2.  Sensations  and  Sentiments 52 

3.  Scheme  of  the  Sentiments 53 

1 1 ,— TH  K  PRODUCTION  OF  EMOTION 54 

1.  'i  he  Necessity  of  Feeling 54 

2.  Emotions  Involuntarj' 54 

3.  Stimulating  Circumstances 55 

(1 )  Probability 55 

0>)  Verisimilitude 55 

(3)  Ideal  Presence 55 

(4)  Minute  Details 56 

(5)  Proximity  of  Time: 57 

(b)  Proximity  of  Place 5? 

(7)  Personal  Relation 51 

(8)  Indirectness 58 

(9)  General  Importance 58 

(10)  Connection  with  the  Consequences 58 

III. — THE  MODIFICATION  OF  EMOTION 5(J 

1.  The  Law  of  Change 5(j 

2.  Dominant  States  of  Feeling 59 

A    Temporary  Emotions '. W) 

(1)  Allaying  the  Feelings n 

(2)  Diverting  the  Feelings 'i  i 

CHAPTER   II. 
THE  PARTICULAR  LAWS  OF  MIND. 

SECTION    I. — AGE. 

i.  Youth fJ 

(1)  Passionate 63 

(2)  Sanguine 63 

(3)  Spirited 64 

(4)  Social 64 

(5)  Mischievous 64 


ANALYSIS.  11 


PAOB 

I.  Old  Age  .........................................  ..................  M 

(1)  Calculating  ..................................................  W 

(2)  Desponding    ..................................................  (>l 

(3)  Humble  .......      .............................................  65 

(4;  Gentle  ......................................................  05 

I,  Middle  A  ire  ........................................................  65 

(1)  Moderate  .....................................................  66 

(2)  Powerful  ....................................................  65 

SECTION    II.  —  EXPERIENCE. 

1.  The  Nature  of  Experience  .........................................  66 

2.  General  and  Specific  Experience  ..   ...............................  67 

3.  Inferred  Experience  ................................................  67 

SECTION    III.  —  AFFILIATION. 

1.  Relation  of  the  Speaker  to  his  Audience  ...........................  68 

(1)  Good  Sense  ...................................................  68 

(2)  Good  Will  ....................................................  68 

(3)  Good  Principles  ...............................................  69 

2.  Party  Spirit  ........................................................  69 

(1)  Ae  a  Motive  ...................................................  69 

(2)  As  a  Means  of  Self-commendation  ............................  70 

(3)  Method  of  Counteracting  .....................................  70 

BOOK   II.—  LAWS   OF   IDEA. 

;.  Kinds  of  Ideas  .....................................................  78 

(1)  Individual  Objects  ............................................  73 

(2)  General  Notions  ..............................................  73 

2.  Divisions  of  this  Subject  ..........................................  73 

CHAPTER   I. 

DESCRIPTION. 

1.  Describable  Objects  .........................  -  .....................  75 

2.  General  Laws  of  Description  ......................................  75 

(1)  The  Law  of  Purpose  ----  ......................................  75 

(2) 
(3) 
(4) 

8   Kinds  of  Description  ............................................  ...  76 


(2)  The  Law  of  Unity  ..................  .  ..........................    75 

(3)  The  Law  of  Completeness  .............  .  ........  ..............    76 

(4)  The  Law  of  Brevity  .  .  .',  .............................  .........    76 


SECTION   I. — OBJECTS   OF   SENSE. 

I ,  Purpo  s e 78 

(1 )  P  o i  n  t  o  f  Vi  c  w 76 

(2)  Division 77 

I    Unity 77 

(1)  Order 77 

(2)  Fitness i 75 

9   Completeness 78 

(1)  Location 78 

(2)  Inner  Qualities 78 

(3)  Time 78 

(4)  Magnitude 78 

t   Brevity 79 

(1)  Comparisons 79 

(2)  Effects 79 

(3)  Contrast 75 

(4)  Fixed  Classes TC 


It  ANALYSIS. 

SECTION  II. — MENTAL  STATES. 

run 

I    The  Mental  Vocabulary 80 

(1)  Metaphorical  Character HO 

(2)  Indenniteness Hi 

(3)  Subjective  Result  v :......... si 

1    Various  Associations. /A ^ 

(1)  External  Expression 8i 

(2)  Actions 82 

(3)  Surroundings 82 

(4)  Causes 83 

SECTION  III. — CHARACTER. 

1  Individuality./..' 83 

2.  Inward  Principles 84 

3.  Concrete  Form 84 

4.  Environment 85 

CHAPTER  II. 

NARRATION. 

SECTION  I. — THE  SELECTION  OF  CIRCUMSTANCES. 

1.  Purpose » 8e 

2.  Unity .*. 87 

3.  Completeness T 87 

4.  Brevity 88 

SECTION  II. — THE  SEQUENCE  OF  EVENTS. 

1.  Time 88 

2  Reasons  for  Violating  the  Order  of  Time 89 

3.  Retrospective  References 90 

4.  Probability 90 

SECTION  III. — THE  SYNCHRONISM   OF  EVENTS. 

1    Kinds  of  Concurrence ,....: '. 91 

(1)  Plurality  of  Departments •". 91 

(2)  Contending  Parties 91 

(3)  Principal  and  Subordinate  Actions , 91 

(4)  Different  Countries 92 

t.  Means  of  Expressing  Synchronism 92 

(1)  Sensible  Forms U.C 93 

(2)  Analysis 93 

(3)  Summary 94 

CHAPTER  III. 


EXPOSITION 


1.  Tbc  Nature  of  Exposition. 
9.  Forms  of  Exposition 


SECTION   I. — EXPOSITION    OF    THE    NOTION    IN    ITSELF 

1  Comprehension  and  Extension  .,'...• , 9f> 

2  Natureof  a  Definition.:. 97 

3.  Nature  of  Division. f 9' 


ANALYSIS.  13 


PAGH 

4.  Difference  between  Definition  and  Divisioi 93 

6    Kinds  of  Definition 98 

..    „    (i)  Nominal 98 

(2)  Real , : •. 98 

(3).  Genetic..., 99 

2     The  Laws  of  Logical  Definition 99 

(1)  A  definition  must  be  adequate 99 

(2)  A  definition  must  not  define  by  negative  or  divisive  attribute    9ft 

(3)  A  definition  should  not  be  tautological ,   100 

(4)  The  definition  must  be  precise 100 

(5)  A  definition  should  be  perspicuous 100 

7.  Kinds  of  Division — / % UK) 

(1)  Partition  . ; 100 

(2)  Logical  Division 101 

8.  The  Laws  of  Logical  Division 101 

(1)  Every  division  should  have  some  principle 101 

(2)  Every  division  should  have  but  one  principle 101 

(3)  The  principle  of  division  should  be  an  actual  and  essential 

character  of  the  divided  whole 101 

(4)  No  dividing  member  must  of  itself  exhaust  the  subject 101 

(5)  The  dividing  members  must  together  exhaust  the  notion,  bat 

not  more 

te  dividing  members  should  not  include  < 

division  should  proceed  continuously,  wil 

9.  Exposition  of  a  Proposition 103 

(1)  By  Definition. ... ......  i 103 

(2)  By  Division.. 104 


(6)  The  dividing  members  should  not  include  one  another 

(7)  A  division  should  proceed  continuously,  without  hiatus 102 


SECTION  II. — EXPOSITION   OF   A   NOTION  THROUGH 

ITS   RELATIONS. 

1.  The  Method  of  Particular^  .-. 105 

2.  The  Method  of  Conditi  ons , 105 

3.  The  Method  of  Similar^  .?...: 106 

4.  The  Method  of  Contrast 106 

CHAPTER  IV. 

ARGUMENTATION. 

1.  The  Rhetorical  Use  of  Arguments 107 

2.  The  Division  of  Arguments 107 

(1)  Form 107 

(2)  Subject-matter 108 

(3)  Purpose 108 

(4)  As  such 108 

SECTION   I. — A    PRIORI   ARGUMENTS. 

1.  Nature  of  the  Argument llf 

2.  Extent  of  Inference  from  a  Cause IK 

3   The  Absence  of  a  Cause Ill 

4.  The  Degree  of  Connection  between  Cause  and  Effect Ill 

6.  Probability  Established  by  a  priori  Arguments 11  $ 

6.  Ambiguity  of  Causal  Words 113 

SECTION   II. — ARGUMENTS   FROM   SIGN. 

1.  Nature  of  the  Argument \\'\ 

1.  Calculation  of  Chances Ill 

8.  Proof  of  a  Cause 119 


14  ANALYSIS. 

FAtfl 

4  Testimony  .....  .  ...............  ...................................  115 

(1)  The  Number  of  Witnesses  ...................................  116 

(2)  Character  of  Witnesses  ....................  ...................  116 

(3)  Concurrent  Witnesses  .  .-  ........................     ............  11C 

(4)  Adverse  Witnesses..,'.  .  ......................................  117 

•    (5)  Character  of  Fac£s  Attested  ...:..'..  ......................  -.  .....  318 

(6)  Tiu;  Denial  of  Testimony  ..'.  ......  ~  ......................  *:...  118 

5  Authority  ..........................................................  118 

1.  The  Progressive  Argument  ..................  ......................  lift 

SECTION    III.  —  ARGUMENTS   FROM    RESEMBLANCE. 

1.  Nature  of  the  Argument  ...................  .   ....................  120 

2.  Essential  Resemblances  ...v...;:  ................................  12C 

3.  Example  ..........................................................  121 

(1)  Nature  of  Example  .  .  ...................................  .....  121 

(2)  Invented  Example  ............................................  122 

(3)  Illustrative  Examples  .........................................  122 

4.  Induction  ..-.  ...............................  .  ........  .  .  .  ............  123 

(1)  The  Method  6f  Agreement  ........  .  ...........................  123 

(2)  The  Method  of  Difference  ..........  .  .  .-j  ..'.'....  /"*/.  f'r  .  .  .  .....  124 

(3)  The  Method  of  Residues  ......................................  124 

(4)  The  Method  of  Concomitant  Variations  ............  ,  ......  ~.  .  125 

5.  Analogy  ..................  .........................................  125 

SECTION   IV.  —  THE   CONDUCT   OF   A   DISCUSSION. 

,    -THE  PREPARATION  OF  THE  QUESTION  ...............................  126 

1.  Necessity  of  Preparation  ............  ,.  .  .  ,  ..........................  126' 

t.  Exposition  .  .£>.  .  ...................  ..-....'.  ........................  127 

3.  Concession  .  .  /.  .....  ,  ..............................................  127 

4.  Contrary  Opinions  .  .  .........  .  ............  ........................  128 

II  —  TUE  INTRODUCTION  .................................................  128 

1.  Design  of  an  Introduction...*  .....................................  128 

2.  Kinds  of  Introduction  .............................................  129 

(1)  Inquisitive  .......  •  .........................   ...................  129 

(2)  Paradoxical  .....  ..............................................  129 

(3)  Corrective  ....................................................  129 

(4)  Preparatory  .:....  ............................................  129 

(5)  Narrative  .....................................................  129 

III.—  CONFIRMATION  .....................................................  130 

1.  The  Uses  of  the  Different  Classes  of  Arguments  ...................  ISO 

(1)  A  Priori  .........  .....................  ........................  130 

(2)  Sign  ..........................................................  130 

(3)  Resemblance  ..................................................  130 

2.  The  Arrangement  of  Arguments  ...................................  131 

(1)  Importance  of  Arrangement  ..................................  131 

(2)  Order  of  Arguments  according  to  Kind  .......................  131 

(3)  Order  of  Arguments  according  to  Strength  ...................  131 

l4)  Proving  by  Installments  ......................................  132 

\V.—  REFUTATION.  .".  ....................................................  132 

1.  Mode?  of  Refutation  ..............  .................................  138 

(1)  Proving  the  Contradictory  ........  .  ...........................  133 

•(2)  Overthrowing  Arguments  ....................................  133 

I   Treatment  of  Objections  ..........................................  135 

(1)  Valid  Objections  on  both  Sides  ...............................  135 

(2)  Decisive  Objections  ..........................................  135 

(3)  Statement  of  Objections  ...........  .....  .....................  136 

B    Cautions  concerning  Refutation  ...................................   136 

<1)  Too  Forcible  Refutation  ......................................   136 

(2)  Too  Great  Clearness  ..........................................  136 

(3)  Prior  Convictions  ............................................   1  37 

(4)  Accusations  .................................................   13< 

(5)  Weak  Arguments  ............................................    18< 

sible  Authorities.  .  .....  .................................   IS 


(6)  Accessi 

<7)  Place  for  Answering  Ol  jections 


AKALYSIS.  16 

BOOK  III.— LAWS  OF  FORM. 

run 

1.  Importance  of  Method 143 

I   The  Process  of  Interpreting  a  Sentence 144 

(1)  Exercise  of  Presentative  Power 144 

(2)  Exercise  of  Conservative  Power 1 15 

(3)  Exercise  of  Representative  Power 145 

(4)  Exorcise  of  Realizing  Power 145 

3.  Deduction  of  the  General  Law  of  Style 146 

(1)  Economy  of  Interpreting  Power It6 

(2)  Economy  of  the  Feelings 146 

(3)  Summary 147 

4.  Apparent  Exceptions 147 

(1)  Intentional  Obscurity 147 

(2)  Excessive  Perspicuity 148 

5.  The  Composer's  Powers  not  to  be  Economized 149 

&  Division  of  the  Subject 149 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  ECONOMY  OF  INTERPRETING  POWER  IN   PLAIN 
LANGUAGE. 

1.  The  Conditions  of  Sentential  Structure 151 

(1)  The  Time-relation 151 

(2)  The  Truth-relation 15 

2.  The  Style  of  Legal  Acts 152 

3.  National  Types  of  Style 152 

(1)  The  German  Style 153 

(2)  The  French  Style. 153 

(3)  The  English  Style 153 

4.  The  Equilibrium  of  these  Forces 154 

5.  Division  of  the  Subject 155 

SECTION"   I. — DICTION,    OR  THE   CHOICE   OF    WORDS. 

1.  —FAMILIARITY 155 

1.  Reasons  for  Familiarity 155 

2.  Aristotle's  Opinion 156 

3.  The  Barbarism 157 

(1)  Barbarisms  from  Time 157 

(2)  Barbarisms  from  Place 158 

4.  When  Barbarisms  are  allowable 158 

t)  Dialectic  Compositions 158 
)  Technical  Persons 158 
e  Law  of  Use 159 

8.  The  Formation  of  New  Words 159 

LT  —LENGTH 160 

1.  Disadvantage  of  Long  Words ^ 160 

(1)  Difficulty  of  Perceiving  them 160 

(2)  Difficulty  of  Remembering  them 161 

2.  Advantages  of  Long  Words 161 

(1)  Sound  and  Sense 161 

(2)  Actual  Economy 162 

3.  Value  of  Saxon  Illustrated  from  Literature 162 

III. — INCLUSION Ifr3 

1.  Definition  and  Forms  of  Inclusion 163 

2.  Specific  and  General  Words 164 

(1)  Difference  between  Specific  and  Genera]  Words 16-1 

(U)  Reasons  for  the  Superior  Force  of  Specific  Expressions 165 

(3)  Choice  of  Terras  Possible lOd 


16  ANALYSIS. 

FAGI 

8.  Homonyms , 167 

(1)  Allowable  Homonyms 167 

(2)  Ambiguous  Homonyms 168 

4 .  Analogues . . . 169 

(1)  Analogues  in  Form 1G9 

(2)  A  nalogues  in  Meaning 170 

I V  •' -IMPLICATION 171 

1    The  Effect  of  Words  on  Thoughts 171 

2.  The  Associations  of  Words 171 

3   The  Utilization  of  Pre-exerted  Energies 172 

ilSCTION   II. — SENTENCES,    OE  THE    COMBINATIONS    DF 
WORDS. 

I  —THE  NUMBER  OP  WORDS 173 

1.  Tautology 174 

2.  Redundancy 175 

3.  Circumlocution 176 

II.— THE  POSITION  OP  WORDS 177 

1.  The  Individual  Force  of  Words 177 

(1)  Emphasis 177 

(2)  Abstractness 177 

2.  Tho  Modifying  Effect  of  Words Ibl 

(1)  Proximity 181 

(2)  Parenthetical  Expressions l»fi 

3.  The  Grammatical  Relations  of  Words 19G 

III.— THE  RELATION  OP  WORDS  TO  THE  IDEA  AS  A  WHOLE 191 

1.  The  Time-relation  of  Words  to  the  Whole  Idea 191 

2.  The  Truth-relation  of  Words  to  the  W^hole  Idea 1«3 

(1)  Suffgestiveness 192 

(2)  Unity 195 

IV.— THE  COMBINATION  OF  SENTENCES 198 

1.  Progressive  Development 199 

2.  Explicit  Reference .• 200 

3.  Necessity  of  a  Theme 201 

4.  Value  of  Analysis 201 

CHAPTER   II. 

THE  ECONOMY  OF  INTERPRETING  POWER  IN  FIGURA- 
TIVE LANGUAGE. 

1.  Definition  of  Figures 203 

2.  Laws  of  Association 203 

3.  These  Laws  Reduced  to  Three 204 

4.  Use  of  these  Laws 204 

(1)  Why  Figures  Improve  Style 204 

(2)  What  Figures  are  Advantageous 205 

SECTION  I. — FIGURES  FOUNDED  ON  RESEMBLANCE. 

i     B  IM  ILK 206 

!.  Fcimsof  Simile 206 

(!)  Direct  Resemblance 206 

(2)  Resemblance  of  Causes 206 

(3)  Resemblance  of  Effect? 207 

(4)  Resemblance  of  Ratios 20£ 

t  Laws  of  Simile 20£ 

(1)  Similar  Objects 210 

(2)  Vague  Resemblances 210 


ANALYSIS.  1? 

FAfil 

(3)  Simpler  Objects 211 

(4)  The  Position  of  Parts  in  a  Simile 211 

fl    -METAPIIOR 213 

t .  Nature  of  Metaphor 213 

2.  Superiority  of  Metaphor  to  Simile 214 

3.  Metaphor  Based  on  Analog}- 214 

4.  Laws  of  Metaphor. 215 

(1)  Necessity  of  Clearness 215 

(2)  Blending  Plain  and  Figurative  Language 215 

(3)  Mixing  Metaphors 216 

(4)  Straining  Metaphors 216 

(5)  Concrete  Metaphors 216 

1.  The  Value  of  Metaphor 217 

III. --PERSONIFICATION 218 

1    The  Nal nre  and  Origin  of  Personification  , 218 

2.  Personification  Natural  to  Man 219 

3.  Personification  in  Oratory 220 

4.  Forms  of  Personification 221 

(1)  Personality  Ascribed 221 

(2)  Qualities  of  Life  Attributed 222 

IV.  —ALLEGORY 222 

1.  The  Nature  of  Allegory 222 

2.  Allegory  Distinguished  from  Allied  Forms 223 

3.  Laws  of  Allegory 224 

(1 )  Development  of  the  Radical  Metaphor 224 

(2)  The  Analogy  Evident .225 

SECTION    II. — FIGURES    FOUNDED    ON    CONTIGUITY. 

1.  The  Theory  Explained 225 

2.  Forms  of  Contiguity 226 

I .  — SYNECDOCHE 227 

1.  Forms  of  Synecdoche 227 

(1)  A  Part  for  the  Whole 227 

(2)  The  Whole  for  a  Part 227 

(3)  The  Material  for  the  Object 228 

II. -METONYMY 228 

1.  Forms  of  Metonymy 228 

0)  Cause  and  Effect 229 

(2)  The  Sign  and  the  Thing  Signified 229 

(3)  Container  and  Thing  Contained *. . .  230 

2.  The  Law  of  Selection 230 

III.— CO-EXISTENT  EMOTIONS  230 

1    Meaning  of  Co-existent  Emotions 230 

2.  Figures  founded  on  Co-existent  Emotions 231 

(1)  Exclamation 231 

(2)  Hyperbole 232 

(3)  Apostrophe 233 

(4)  Vision 234 

3.  Explanation  of  these  Figures 234 

4.  Laws  of  these  Figures 236 

SECTION   III. — FIGURES   FOUNDED   ON   CONTRAST. 

1.  The  Theory  of  Contrast '. 287 

2.  Essentials  of  a  Perfect  Contrast 238 

3.  Figures  Founded  on  Contrast 238 

I  -EXPRESSED  CONTRAST..* 238 

1.   Antithesis 238 

(1)  The  Nature  of  Antithesis    238 

(2)  The  Natural  Form  of  Antithesis 239 

(3)  Laws  of  Antithesis 240 

1  Climax. .*. 240 


18  ANALYSIS. 

Fi.61 

(1. —IMPLIED  CONTRAST 241 

1.  Epigram 341 

2    Interrogation 243 

8    Irony 243 


CHAPTER  III. 

ECONOMY  OF  THE  FEELINGS. 

1  The  Effect  of  Words  on  the  Sensibilities 244 

i.  Hamilton's  Theory  of  the  Peelings 244 

3   Application  of  the  Theory  to  Expression 24* 

SECTION    I. — VARIETY. 

1.  The  Necessity  of  Variety 246 

2.  The  Applications  of  Variety 246 

J  .—LETTERS 246 

1.  The  Cumulation  of  Consonants  24T 

2.  The  Cumulation  of  Vowels 2ft 

II. — WORDS  AND  SYLLABLES 248 

1.  Tautophony 248 

(1)  'Offensive  Tautophony 248 

(2)  Intentional  Tautophony 24S 

2.  Meter. 25 

(1)  Proof  of  the  Value  of  Meter 25i 

(2)  Example 251 

(3)  Adaptation  of  Meter  to  Poetry 252 

(4)  Rhythm 253 

(5)  Meter  no  Violation  of  Variety 253 

111.— SENTENCES 254 

1.  Length 254 

2.  Structure 254 

IV.— FIGURES 255 

1.  Similarity 255 

2.  Profusion 255 

SECTION    II. — HARMONY. 

I. — SOUNDS 256 

1 .  Other  Sounds 257 

2.  Time  and  Motion , 258 

3.  Size 259 

4.  Ease  and  Difficulty 259 

5.  The  Agreeable  and  Disagreeable 200 

6-  Climax  in  Sense 260 

1 1 — FIGURES 261 

1.  The  Kinds  of  Figures 261 

2  The  Number  of  Figures 261 

3.  The  Source  of  Figures 362 

204 


1.  Essential  Elements  of  Discourse. 

Every  sentence  is  designed  to  communicate  an 
and  employs  language  as  the  medium  of  communica- 
tion. The  idea  may  be  definite  to  the  mind  of  the 
communicator,  but  vague  to  the  interpreter  of  the  sen 
tence.  This  is  because  the  medium  does  not  always 
perfectly  reveal  the  idea.  There  is  obviously  such  a 
distinction  between  the  idea  and  the  medium  as  to 
present  two  classes  of  facts  for  our  consideration. 

2.  The  Relations  of  Thought  and  Language. 

A  proper  conception  of  the  relations  of  an  idea  and 
its  medium  of  expression,  is  of  primary  importance. 
As  the  question  belongs  both  to  Linguistics  and  to 
Logic,  we  shall  cite  authorities  from  both  sciences. 

O       " 

(1)  Language  and  Thought  Separable.— After  show- 
ing that  thought  is  antecedent  to  expression,,  Pro- 
fessor Whitney  says  :  "Language,  then,  is  the  spoken 
means  whereby  thought  is  communicated,  and  it  ia 
only  that.  Language  is  not  thought,  nor  is  thought 
language ;  nor  is  there  a  mysterious  and  indisso- 
luble connection  between  the  two,  as  there  is  between 
goul  and  body,  so  that  the  one  cannot  exist  and 
manifest  itself  without  the  other.  There  can  hardly 


20  INTRODUCTION. 

be  a  greater  and  more  pernicious  error,  in  linguistics 
or  in  metaphysics,  than  the  doctrine  that  language  and 
tli ought  are  identical.  .  .  The  body  would  bo 
neither  comfortable  nor  comely,  if  not  clad  ;  cotton  and 
wool  would  be  of  little  use,  but  for  machinery  making 
quick  and  cheap  their  conversion  into  cloth  ;  and,  in 
a  truly  analogous  way,  thought  would  be  awkward, 
feeble,  and  indistinct,  without  the  dress,  the  apparatus, 
which  is  afforded  by  language.  Our  denial  of  the 
identity  of  thought  with  its  expression  does  not  com- 
pel us  to  abate  one  jot  or  tittle  of  the  exceeding  value 
of  speech  to  thought ;  it  only  puts  that  value  upon  its 
proper  basis."  * 

(2)  Language   an  Aid  to  Thought.  —  Although 

thought  and  its  expression  are  distinct,  words  furnish 
an  indispensable  aid  to  intricate  or  long  continued 
thinking.  The  manner  in  which  assistance  is  afforded 
is  thus  illustrated  by  Sir  William  Hamilton  :  "  A  coun- 
try may  be  overrun  by  an  armed  host,  but  it  is  only 
conquered  by  the  establishment  of  fortresses.  Words 
are  the  fortresses  of  thought.  They  enable  us  to  re- . 
alize  our  dominion  over  what  we  have  already  overrun 
in  thought ;  to  make  every  intellectual  conquest  the 
basis  of  operations  for  others  still  beyond.  Or  another 
illustration  :  You  have  all  heard  of  the  process  of  tun 
neling  through  a  sand-bank.  In  this  operation  it  is 
impossible  to  succeed,  unless  every  foot,  nay  almost 
every  inch  in  our  progress,  be  secured  by  an  arch  of 
masonry,  before  we  attempt  the  excavation  of  another, 
Now,  language  is  to  the  mind  precisely  what  the  arcli 
is  to  the  tunnel.  The  power  of  thinking  and  ihe 
power  of  excavating  are  not  dependent  on  the  word  in 

*  Whitney's  Language  and  the  Study  of  Language. 


INTRODUCTION.  21 

the  one  case,  on  the  mason- work  in  the  other ;  c/u( 
without  these  subsidiaries,  neither  process  could  bo 
carried  on  beyond  its  rudimentary  commencement, 
Though,  therefore,  we  allow  that  every  movement  for- 
ward in  language  must  be  determined  by  an  antecedent 
movement  forward  in  thought ;  still,  unless  thought 
be  accompanied  at  each  point  of  evolution,  by  a  corre- 
sponding evolution  of  language,  its  further  develop- 
ment is  arrested."* 

(3)  Language  Abbreviates  Thinking.  —  In   addi- 
tion to  their  recording  power,  but  growing  out  of  it, 
is  the  power  of  words  to  take  the  place  of  a  complex 
conception,  and  thus  to  become  an  object  of  thought, 
or  thought  itself.     Leibnitz  was  the  first  to  distinguish 
between  symbolical  and  intuitive  conceptions.     When 
our  notion  of  an  object  consists  of  a  clear  insight  into 
all  its  essential  attributes,  it  is  intuitive.     When,  on  the 
contrary,  our  notion  is  so  complex  that  we  do  not  at 
once  realize  all  its  properties,  it  is  symbolical.     When 
we  use  the  words  state,  clmrcli,  deity,  designating  com- 
plex notions  which  we  fully  realize  only  after  analysis, 
the  ivord,  and  not  what  it  signifies,  is  the  thought.     If 
we  use  the  word  in  a  single  sense,  and  the  propositions 
containing  it  are  true,  such  a  symbol  abbreviates  the 
processes  of  thought  without  inaccuracy. 

(4)  Language    Vitiates    Thought.  — Meaningless 

combinations   often   result  from   the   union  of    sym- 
bols instead  of  things.      This  was   the  error   of   the 
Schoolmen,  who  toyed  with  the  signs  of  things  vvith- 
ut  comparing  things  themselves.     Much  of  the  so 
called    "subjective  poetry"   is    of    this    description. 

Such  is  Dry  den's  stanza  : 

% 
*  Lectures  on  Logi&. 


22  INTRODUCTION. 

44  From  harmony,  from  heavenly  harmony 

This  universal  frame  began  ; 
From  harmony  to  harmony 

Through  all  the  compass  of  the  notes  it  ran 
The  diapason  closing  full  in  man." 

"In  these   sonorous   lines/'    Dr.    Campbell 
"  there  is  not  even  a  glimpse  of  meaning." 

(5)  Language  an  Instrument  of  Analysis.— The  eye 

conveys  to  the  mind  an  impression  of  an  action  as 
a  whole,  but  language  is  necessarily  analytic.  This 
important  property  of  language  has  been  described  as 
follows  by  Archbishop  Thomson  :  "  As  the  mind  does 
not  receive  impressions  passively,  but  reflects  upon 
them,  decomposes  them  into  their  elements,  and  com- 
part3S  them  with  notions  already  stored  up,  language, 
the  close-fitting  dress  of  our  thoughts,  is  always  analyt- 
ical,— it  does  not  body  forth  a  mere  picture  of  facts, 
but  displays  the  working  of  the  mind  upon  the  facts 
submitted  to  it,  with  the  order  in  which  it  regards 
them.  This  analysis  has  place  even  in  the  simplest 
descriptions.  4  The  bird  is  flying '  is  an  account  of 
one  object  which  we  behold,  and  in  its  present  condi- 
tion. But  the  object  was  single,  while  our  description 
calls  up  two  notions — 'bird'  and  'flying,' — and  it  is 
plain  that  this  difference  is  the  result  of  an  analysis 
which  the  mind  has  performed,  separating,  in  thought, 
the  bird  from  its  present  action  of  flying,  and  then 
mentioning  them  together.  In  painting  and  sculpture, 
on  the  contrary,  we  have  languages  that  do  not  employ 
analysis  ;  and  a  picture  or  statue  would  be  called  by 
some  a  synthetic,  or  compositive  sign,  from  the  notion 
that  in  it  all  the  elements  and  qualities  of  the  object 
which  would  have  been  mentioned  separately  in  a  de- 


INTRODUCTION.  23 

gcription,  are  thrown  together  and  represented  at  one 
view.  The  statue  of  the  Dying  Gladiator  gives  at  one 
glance  all  the  principal  qualities  so  finely  analyzed  by 
the  following  description,,  which,  however,  includes 
*lso  the  poet's  reflections  upon  and  inferences  from 
the  qualities  he  observes  ;  the  objective  impression  ig 
described,  but  with  a  development  of  the  subjective 
condition  into  which  it  throws  the  narrator. 

"  I  see  before  me  the  Gladiator  lie : 
He  leans  upon  his  hand — his  manly  brow 
Consents  to  death  but  conquers  agony, 
And  his  drooped  head  sinks  gradually  low — 
And  through  his  side  the  last  drops,  ebbing  slow 
From  the  red  gash,  fall  heavy  one  by  one, 
Like  the  first  of  a  thunder  shower  ;  and  now 
The  arena  swims  around  him — he  is  gone, 
Ere  ceased  the  inhuman  shout  which  hailed  the  wretch  who 
won. 

He  heard  it,  but  he  heeded  not — his  eyes 
Were  with  his  heart,  and  that  was  far  away  ; 
He  recked  not  of  the  life  he  lost,  nor  prize, 
But  where  his  rude  hut  by  the  Danube  lay : 
There  were  his  young  barbarians  all  at  play, 
There  was  their  Dacian  mother — he,  their  sire, 
Butchered  to  make  a  Roman  holiday ! 
All  this  rushed  with  his  blood — shall  he  expire 
And  unavenged  ?     Arise  1  ye  Goths,  and  glut  your  ire ! 

BYBOK. 

'  Here  the  analysis  of  the  impression  is  carried  to 
its  farthest;  and  in  the  second  stanza  the  object  be- 
comes quite  subordinate  to  the  inferences  and  fancies 
of  the  subject.  But  it  is  all  the  more  striking  as  an 
illustration  of  the  principle,  that  language  presents  to 


24  IHTRODtJCTlOH. 

us  the  analysis,  as  painting  and  sculpture  the  imita- 
tions, of  a  sensible  impression."  * 

With  the  progress  of  the  human  intellect,  language 
becomes  less  synthetic  and  more  analytic,  in  order  U 
express  new  distinctions. 

3.  Modes  of  Expressing  Ideas. 

It  is  important  for  the  comprehension  of  discourse 
to  dwell  upon  the  various  modes  of  expressing  ideas, 
and  the  peculiar  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  lan- 
guage as  a  medium  of  expression. 

When  a  landscape  is  spread  before  the  eye,  we  re- 
ceive impressions  of  form,  relation,  color  and  motion. 
These,  united  into  a  complex  whole,  give  to  the  mind 
a  conception  of  the  landscape.  Now  let  the  observer 
be  removed  from  the  place,  and  try  to  convey  that 
conception  to  another.  Memory  may  retain  every 
feature  of  the  scene.  The  idea  may  be  complete.  The 
problem  is  to  communicate  that  idea  to  another  mind. 

(1)  Drawing, — This  may  be  done  by  drawing.     If 
so,  the  outlines  of  each  object  may  be  perfect.     The 
shading  may  be  an  accurate  representation  of  the  gra- 
dation of  light  on  the  natural  objects.     The  relations 
of  the  parts  may  be  exact.     The  perspective  may  be  so 
true  as  to  fulfill  all   the  requirements  of  optical  laws. 
Yet   color   and    motion,    the   two   vital  elements  of 
nature,  must  be  wanting. 

(2)  Painting, — In  order  to  convey    the  idea   still 
more  fully,  the  observer  may  resort  to  the  painter's 
brush.     As  before,  outline,  shade,  perspective,  relation 
of  parts,  are  all  true  to  nature,  and  now  color  enlivens 
the  scene.     The  sky  is  warmed  with  the  blush  of  dawn, 

*  Thomson's  Outline  of  the  Lvws  of  Thought. 


INTRO.WCTION.  fe£ 

the  grass  and  leaves  arc  animated  witli  their  own  green 
life,  and  the  curling  smoke  of  the  cottage  is  no  longei 
of  the  same  hue  with  the  cloud.  Yet,  on  closer  iu 
spection,  the  incessant  stii  of  natural  life  is  wanting, 
there  is  no  motion  in  the  scene. 

(3)  Sculpture. — Next   the  chisel   of  the  sculptor 
chips  the  white  dust  from  the  marble,  until  the  scene 
Is  evoked  from  its  smooth  surface,  and  stands  out  in 
relief.     If  now  the  painter  adds  color,  the  work  com- 
bines the  skill  of  the  draughtsman,  the  sculptor  and 
the  painter.     Formal  art  has  exhausted  itself.     Still 
there  is  no  motion.     That  fisherman  has  been  looking 
steadily  into  the  water  for  months  and  years,  and  has 
caught  nothing.     It  is  as  if  a  flood  of  liquid  glass  had 
suddenly  crept  over  the  scene,  holding  all  in  its  crys- 
talline death-grip.     To  represent  a  five  minutes'  view 
of  the  landscape  would  require  a  hundred  pictures. 
Motion,  the  most  ceaseless  and  admirable  principle  of 
all  material  existence,  baffles  the  painter  and  sculptor, 
and  time,  the  measure  of  motion,  is  beyond  all  the  arts 
of  pencil  and  chisel. 

(4)  Language. — See  now  how  Language  airily  lifts 
the  foot  to  the  step  which  Painting  cannot  touch  with 
her  longing  finger-tips.     Even  Painting  cannot  express 
this  idea  : 

"  Missing  thee  I  walk  unseen 
On  the  dry,  smooth-shaven  green, 
To  behold  the  wandering  moon 
Riding  near  her  highest  noon, 
Like  one  that  had  been  led  astray, 
Through  the  heaven's  wide  pathless  way 
And  oft,  as  if  her  head  she  bowed, 
Stooping  through  a  fleecy  cloud." 

The  poet  has  described  a  scene  which  the  paii<tez 


26  INTRODUCTION. 

ran  not  represent.  The  painter  may  place  the  moon  in 
(he  zenith,  bursting  through  a  maze  of  silvery  mist,  so 
I  hat  the  active  imagination  might  infer  motion,  but  the 
motion  itself,  which  language  so  easily  expresses  in 
"stooping  as  if  her  head  she  bowed,"  defies  all  formal 
art. 

4.  Restrictions  of  Formal  Art. 

(1)  Motion. — We  have  just  seen  how  any  merely 
imitative  art  is  restricted  from  the  representation  of 
motion.     The  last  example  sufficiently  illustrates  the 
limitation. 

(2)  Time. — Painting  or  Sculpture  can  scarcely  tell 
a  story  involving  a  succession  of  incidents,  except  as 
they  hint  the  narrative  to  such  minds  as  are  given  to 
reflection  on  the  relations  of  cause  and  effect.     Mr. 
Ruskin  has  given  a  description  of  one  of  Tintoret's 
paintings,  in  which  the  power  of  the  artist's  invention 
is  displayed  by  the  ingenious  triumph  over  the  most 
formidable  obstacles  of  his  art : 

"  In  the  center  of  the  gallery  at  Parina,  there  is  a  canvas  of 
Tintoret's  whose  sublimity  of  conception  and  grandeur  of  color 
are  seen  in  the  highest  perfection,  by  their  opposition  to  the 
morbid  and  vulgar  sentimentalism  of  Correggio.  It  is  an  En- 
tombment of  Christ,  with  a  landscape  distance.  .  .  .  An 
ordinary  or  unimaginative  painter  would  have  made  prominent, 
among  his  objects  of  landscape,  such  as  might  naturally  be  sup 
posed  to  have  been  visible  from  the  sepulcher,  and  shown  with 
the  crosses  of  Calvary  some  portion  of  Jerusalem,  or  of  the  Val 
ley  of  Jehoshaphat.  But  Tintoret  has  a  far  higher  aim.  Dwell 
ing  on  the  peculiar  force  of  the  event  before  him,  as  the  fulfil 
inent  o*  the  final  prophecy  respecting  the  passion,  '  He  made  his 
grave  with  the  wicked  and  with  the  rich  in  his  death,'  he  desire? 
to  direct  the  mind  of  the  spectator  to  this  receiving  of  the  bod^ 
of  Christ,  in  its  contrast  with  the  houseless  birth  and  the  desert 
life.  And,  therefore,  behind  the  ghastly  tomb-grass  that  shakee 


INTKODUCTIOK.  2*5 

Its  black  and  withered  blades  above  the  rocks  of  the  sepulcher, 

there  is  seen,  not  the  actual  material  distance  of  the  spot  itself, 
(though  the  crosses  are  shown  faintly)  but  that  to  which  tlve 
thoughtful  spirit  would  return  in  vision,  a  desert  place,  where 
the  foxes  have  holes  and  the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests,  and 
igainst  the  barred  twilight  of  the  melancholy  sky  are  seen  tke 
aioldering  beams  and  shattered  roofing  of  a  ruined  cattle-shed 
~-ihe  canopy  of  the  nativity."* 

This  is  exquisite,  but  altogether  too  subtile  for  gen 
end  apprehension.  Features  of  this  kind  are  generally 
overlooked,  because  the  appreciation  of  them  depends 
on  an  acuteness  of  perception  not  universally  possessed. 
It  may  be  held,  therefore,  that  painting  has  no  power 
of  its  own  to  express  ideas  of  time.  It  here  meets  a 
limitation  which  is  no  barrier  to  diction.  The  painter 
must  seize  his  subject  at  the  one  favorable  moment  ; 
and  here  is  another  limitation,  since  ail  moments  are 
not  equally  favorable. 

(3)  Power. — Power,  the  cause  of  motion,  may  be 
suggested  in  painting,  but  it  is  with  difficulty  that  un- 
usual power  can  be  expressed.  Homer,  speaking  of 
Minerva's  attack  upon  Mars,  says  : 

"  But  she,  retiring,  with  strong  gvasp  upheaved 
A  rugged  stone,  black,  ponderous  from  the  plain, 
A  landmark  fixed  by  men  of  ancient  times/' 

Lessing,  commenting  on  this  passage,  expresses  his 
views  thus  : 

"  In  order  properly  to  estimate  the  greatness  of 
this  stone,  we  must  remember  that  Homer  makes  hia 
haroes  for  the  nonce  as  strong  as  the  strongest  man  in 
his  iay  ;  but  he  makes  those  men  whom  Nestor  knew 

*  Modern  Painters,  Vol.  1. 


38  INTRODUCTION. 

in  his  youth  surpass  them  in  strength.  Now,  T  ask, 
with  respect  to  this  stone,  which  not  one  man  out  ol 
the  men  of  Nestor's  youthful  contemporaries  could 
have  put  down  for  a  boundary  stone, — now,  I  ask,  if 
Minerva  had  thrown  such  a  stone  at  Mars,  of  what 
stature  must  the  goddess  be  ?  If  her  stature  is  to  be 
proportioned  to  the  greatness  of  the  stone,  then  the 
wonder  ceases.  A.  man  who  is  three  times  larger  than 
I  am  must  naturally  be  able  to  throw  a  stone  three 
times  greater.  But  if  the  stature  of  the  goddess  be 
not  proportioned  to  the  greatness  of  the  stone,  then 
there  arises  an  evident  improbability  in  the  painting, 
the  repulsiveness  of  which  is  not  removed  by  the  cold 
reflection  that  a  goddess  must  have  superhuman 
strength.  Where  I  see  an  effect  greater  than  usual,  I 
expect  to  find  an  instrument  greater  than  usual.  And 
Mars  overthrown  by  this  mighty  stone,  '  covered  ten 
acres.'  It  is  impossible  that  the  painter  could  give 
this  extraordinary  size  to  the  god,  but  if  he  does  not 
give  it  him,  then  Mars  does  not  lie  upon  the  ground, 
like  the  Homeric  Mars,  but  like  a  common  war- 
rior." * 

(4)  Penetrative  Imagination.— A  consideration 
of  great  importance  to  the  relative  value  of  the  various 
modes  of  expression  is,  that  the  best  results  of  the 
penetrative  imagination,  the  power  which  reaches  to 
the  essential  constitution  of  things,  cannot  be  ex- 
pressed by  any  formal  art.  The  genius  of  Tintoret 
again  vindicates  the  wondrous  powers  of  painting,  but 
we  must  be  content  with  a  reference  to  Buskin's  de- 
scription of  his  "  Massacre  of  the  Innocents."  f 

*  Laocoon.     Sir  Robert  Pkillimore's  Translation. 
f  Raskin's  Modern  Painters,  vol.  1. 


LNTRODUCTIO^.  '  29 

The  limit  of  formal  art  will  be  seen  by  a  study  of 
the  following  description  of  "  Death." 
"As  silent  and  dark  as  a  shadow,  unmoved  as  a  stone 
That  standeth  all  day  in  the  desert,  unseen  and^done, 
Waiteth  Death:  no  breeze  touches  her  mantle  that  fortieth  right 

down, 

Over  feet  that  we  see  not  and  hands  that  we  see  not  ;  a  frown 
Seems  to  drift  down  the  distance  and  blight  the  fresh  pastures 

of  life, 

And  an  icy  'breath  seems  to  flow  from  her  and  make  the  air  rife 
With  tremblings." 

"  Over  feet  that  we  see  not  and  hands  that  we  see 
not !  "  What  combination  of  line  and  color  can  pre- 
sent this  subtile  image  ?  If  unseen,  surely  not  to  be 
expressed  in  line  and  color.  The  painter  and  sculptor 
drape  those  unseen  hands  and  feet,  but  then  how  shall 
they  be  expressed  ?  How  shall  any  formal  art  express 
the  idea  of  the  "air  rife  with  the  tremblings  of  her  icy 
oreath?" 

Another  forcible  illustration  of  the  inability  of 
painting  to  represent  the  results  of  the  penetrative 
pagination  is  found  in  the  mist  with  which  Homer 
envelops  his  heroes  when  he  makes  them  invisible  to 
mortals.  Painting  has  sometimes  attempted  to  repre- 
sent this  invisibility  by  placing  a  thin  cloud  between 
the  hero  and  those  from  whom  he  is  supposed  to  be 
concealed.  Lessing  has  pointed  out  the  absurdity  of 
introducing  this  cloud  into  painting. 

5.   Restrictions  of  Language. 

(1)  Lessing's  Limitation. — Lessing  seems  to  hare 
gone  too  far  in  his  generalization  of  the  proper  spheies 
of  poetry  and  painting.  He  truly  says :  "  Paint- 
ing makes  use  of  figures  and  colors  in  space.  Poetry, 


30  INTRODUCTION. 

of  articulate  sounds  in  time.  The  signs  of  the  f  mci 
are  natural  ;  those  of  the  latter  are  arbitrary."  But 
he  seems  to  err  when  he  adds  :  "  Express  painl  ng  of 
bolit)S  [by  wjiich  he  means  description]  is  forl  idden 
to  poetry."  Mackintosh  well  asks  what  Chinese  artist 
could  paint  a  buttertly  better  than  Spenser. 

"  The  velvet  nap  which  on  his  wings  doth  lie, 
The  silken  down  with  which  his  back  is  dight, 
His  broad  outstretched  horns,  his  hairy  thighs^ 
His  glorious  colors  and  his  glistening  eyes  I  "  * 

Here  is  a  picture  from  Hood  which  is  its  ow*>  justi- 
fication against  this  limitation  : 

"  Loud  hissed  the  sea  beneath  her  lee — my  little  boat  flew  fas\+ 
But  faster  still  the  rushing  storm  came  borne  upon  the  blast. 
Lord  !  what  a  roaring  hurricane  beset  the  straining  sail ! 
What  furious  sleet,  with  level  drift,  and  fierce  assaults  of  hail 
What  darksome  caverns  yawned  before !  what  jagged  steepa 

behind  ! 

Like  battle  steeds,  with  foamy  manes,  wild  tossing  in  the  wind, 
Each  after  each  sank  down  astern,  exhausted  in  the  chase, 
But  where  it  sank  another  rose  and  galloped  in  its  place  ; 
As  black  as  night — they  turned  to  white,  and  cast  against  the 

cloud 
A  snowy  sheet,  as  if  each  surge  upturned  a  sailor's  shroud." 

If  language  is  not  as  impressive  as  painting  in  ex- 
press description,  it  falls  little  short  of  it ;  while  in  the 
communication  of  ideas  of  time,  motion,  and  the  results 
of  the  penetrative  imagination,  language  surpasses  all 
other  means  of  expression.  Nevertheless,  with  all 
these  excellences,  language  has  serious  disadvantages 
as  a  medium  of  expression. 

(2)  The  Symbolic  Character  of  Words.— Words 
may  be  distinguished  as  presentive  or  symbolic,  accord- 

*  Quoted  by  Sir  Robert  Phillimore. 


INTRODUCTION.  31 

ing  as  they  do  or  do  not  suggest  substantive  objects 
to  the  mind.  Thus  at,  but,  ivhere,  and  the  present 
no  objects  to  the  mind,  and  are  merely  symbols  foi 
mental  notions.  Such  words  as  lamp,  post,  flag-staff \ 
.ind  house  do  suggest  objects  to  the  mind.  But  aside 
from  this  important  distinction,  all  words  are  symbolic 
•i  a  broader  sense,  although,  so  strong  is  the  tie  of  as- 
sociation between  words  and  things,  we  are  in  danger 
of  forgetting  the  symbolism.  "  When  barbers'  poles 
were  first  erected,  they  were  pictorial  and  present! ve, 
for  they  indicated  by  white  bands  of  paint  the  linei: 
bandages  which  were  used  in  blood-letting,  an  opera- 
tion performed  by  the  old  surgeon-barbers.  In  oui 
time  we  only  know  (speaking  of  the  popular  mind) 
that  the  pole  indicates  a  barber's  shop,  but  why  or  how 
is  unknown.  And  this  is  symbolism."  *  Now  most  of 
our  words  have  no  more  connection  with  the  objects 
they  signify  than  the  barber's  pole  has  with  shaving  or 
hair-cutting.  The  connection  is  purely  arbitrary  and 
accidental  ;  not  natural  and  necessary. 

(3)  The  Uncertainty  of  Words  as  a  Medium.— 
Words  are  not,  then,  images  of  ideas  reflected  in  a 
faultless  mirror.  They  are  not  even  photographs  re- 
quiring only  the  addition  of  color.  They  are  scarce- 
ly "fragmentary  sketches,"  furnishing  the  bare  out- 
lines of  an  idea,  while  much  must  be  supplied  by  the 
imagination  to  fill  up  the  picture.  However  careful 
and  extended  our  training  may  have  been,  it  cannot  be 
presumed  that  we  know  all  the  verbal  signs  in  our  own 
language.  The  child  can  converse  on  only  a  few  sub- 
jects, and  can  understand  only  the  most  common 
terms.  In  this  respect  all  men  are  more  or  less 
*  Earle's  Philology  of  the  English  Tonffue. 


32  INTRODUCTION-. 

children.  The  English  language  contains  over  & 
hundred  thousand  words.  Of  this  vast  number  only  a 
few  thousand  are  used  hy  any  single  person.  To  a 
nucleus  of  a  few  hundred  common  terms  every  speaker 
or  writer  adds  many  which  are  peculiar  to  his  profes- 
sion, his  subject,  his  district,  or  the  social  class  to  which 
he  belongs,  but  which  are  unintelligible  to  the  major- 
ity of  those  who  speak  the  same  tongue.  Each  mind, 
too,  has  feelings,  cognitions,  and  conceptions  which 
other  minds  do  not  have.  There  are  various  proper 
styles  of  expressing  the  same  idea,  depending  upon  the 
discernment  of  different  relations  and  analogies.  There 
are  distinctions  in  thought  which  all  have  not  made. 
So  we  do  not  speak  the  same  words,  or  attach  to  them 
the  same  meaning.  Thus  a  liability  of  being  misun- 
derstood or  unintelligible  belongs  to  all  language, 
however  carefully  it  may  be  used. 

(4)  Language  an  Impediment, — Again,  language 
js  an  actual  impediment  in  the  communication  of 
ideas.  The  shaft  which  communicates  the  power  ol 
an  engine  to  the  machinery  is  itself  an  obstruction-, 
since  some  of  the  power  is  required  to  move  the  shaft. 
If  it  can  be  reduced  in  size  and  weight  without  failing 
to  transmit  the  force,  so  much  the  better  ;  and,  by 
progressive  approach,  it  follows  that  it  would  .best 
serve  the  purpose  when  its  weight  should  be  reduced 
to  zero.  So  in  language,  words  are  often  an  incum- 
brance.  A  simple  pointing  to  the  door  is  much  moie 
impressive  than  to  say,  "leave  the  room."  A  smile 
of  approbation  or  of  contempt  is  more  suggestive  than 
an  elaborate  sentence.  As  power  cannot  be  applied  to 
some  kinds  of  machinery  except  by  a  complex  system 
of  cog-wheels,  so  some  ideas  cannot  be  expressed  except 


INTRODUCTION.  33 

by  words  ;  yet  the  cog-wheels  are  an  incumbrance  ren- 
dered necessary  by  the  conditions  of  the  case,  and  so 
ire  words.  They  are  media  of  power,  but  themselyc  s 
absorb  some  of  it. 

6.  Excellence  of  Style  Relative. 

The  perfection  of  style  is,  therefore,  merely  relative, 
and  not  absolute.  It  cannot  be  perfect  in  melody,  for 
while  sometimes  it  may  glide  along  with  liquid  smooth- 
ness, at  others  it  must  grate  upon  the  ear,  or  fail  to  ex- 
press its  contained  idea.  It  cannot  be  perfect  in  uni- 
versality, for,  since  its  signs  are  conventional,  it  must 
change  with  those  to  whom  it  is  addressed.  The  fleet- 
ing and  mutable  elements  of  language  render  it  impos- 
sible for  it  to  be  perfect,  or  even  intelligible,  for  more 
than  a  few  generations,  except  in  the  most  mature  and 
stationary  languages  ;  and  a  stationary  living  language 
is  impossible  among  a  progressive  people.  The  poems 
of  Chaucer  cannot  be  said  to  bo  written  in  a  style 
which  we  can  recognize  as  good,  until,  by  the  help  of  a 
glossary,  we  become  Englishmen  of  the  fourteenth 
century. 

In  all  these  respects,  language  is  placed  at  a  great 
disadvantage  as  a  means  of  expression.  All  men  who 
have  eyes  may  perceive  the  genius  of  Zeuxis  and  Phid- 
ias, but  Homer  and  ^Eschylus  are  nonentities  to  the 
masses  of  men,  unless  their  works  are  translated  ;  in 
other  words,  their  expression  must  go  for  naught,  uiid 
their  ideas  must  be  revealed  anew. 

7.  The  Difference  between  Prose  and 
Poetry. 

Prose  and  Poetry  are  both  forms  of  discourse,  and 


34  INTRODUCTION, 

may  be  treated  together.  The  distinction  between 
them  has  been  much  discussed.  Definiteness  of  view 
•>n  this  subject  is  necessary  to  the  comprehension  of 
several  principles  of  expression. 

(1)  Aristotle's  Opinion. — Aristotle  views  poeln 
as  consisting  in  imitation.  *     But  nothing  can  be  fat 
thcr  from  imitation  than  most  poetry.     (( In  the  first 
place,"  says  Professor  Masson,  "that  it  is  verse  at  all  is 
a  huge  deviation  in  itself  from  what  is  in  any  ordinary 
sense  natural.     Men  do  not  talk  in  good  literary  prose, 
much  less  in  blank  verse  or  rhyme.     Macbeth,  in  his 
utmost  strait  and  horror — Lear,  when  the  lightnings 
scathed  his  white  head — did  not  actually  talk  in  me- 
ter." f     Goethe  declared  that  art  is  called  art  simply 
because  it  is  not  nature. 

(2)  Bacon's  Opinion. — Bacon  makes  poetry  to  con- 
sist in  fiction,  and  says  it  is  "nothing  else  but  feignea 
history,  which  may  be  styled  as  well  in  prose  as  in  verse.  "J 

(3)  Coleridge's  Opinion.— Coleridge  denies  that  the 
true  antithesis  is  between  prose  and  poetry,  but  asserts 
that  it  is  between  poetry  and  science.^ 

(1)  Buskin's  Opinion.—  Ruskin,  after  much  re- 
flection, concludes  that  poetry  is  "  The  suggestion  by 
the  imagination  of  noble  grounds  for  noble  emotions.'"^ 
According  to  this,  Carlyle's  Essays  and  the  eighth 
chapter  of  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Romans  would  be 
poetry  of  the  highest  class. 

(5)  Dr.  Whately's  View.— Doctor  Whatelj  de- 
flees  his  views  thus  :  "Any  composition  in  verse  (and 

*  Aristotle's  Poetic,  Chap.  I. 

f  PJssays  Chiefly  on  the  English  Poets. 

\  Advancement  of  Learning. 

§  Works,  vol.  ii.  T  Modern  Painter*,  vol.  H. 


INTRODUCTION.  35 

none  that  is  not)  is  always  called,  whether  good  or 
bad,  a  poem,  by  all  who  have  no  favorite  hypothesis  to 
maintain."*  Mr.  De  Quincey  has  invalidated  the 
Archbishop's  position  by  showing  that,  on  a  question 
not  of  fact  but  of  opinion,  those  are  cited  as  the  best 
authority  who  professedly  have  no  opinion. f 

(6)  The  True  Difference  Based  on  Effects.  — 
Failing  to  find  satisfaction  from  those  who  have  dis- 
cussed the  subject,  let  us  attempt  an  analysis.  If 
prose  and  poetry  are  really  distinguished  by  any 
difference,  it  does  not  lie  wholly  in  the  form,  since 
that  has  changed  from  age  to  age.  Again,  since 
poetry  is  recognized  by  all  civilized  races,  there  must 
be  something  in  man  which  makes  the  difference  We 
find  in  man  three  classes  of  powers  ;  the  intellect,  the 
feelings,  and  the  will.  If  we  observe  the  effect  of  dis- 
course upon  the  mind,  we  shall  find  that  three  distinct 
kinds  of  effect  are  produced,  which  lead  men  to  dis- 
tinguish common  prose,  poetry,  and  eloquence.  When 
ideas  are  addressed  chiefly  to  the  intellect,  we  say  they 
are  prosaic  ;  when  to  the  feelings,  that  they  are  poet- 
ical ;  when  to  the  will,  that  they  are  eloquent.  Kus- 
kin's  prose  is  often  poetical ;  some  of  Pope's  poetry  is 
confessedly  prosaic.  Thus  far  for  the  distinction  of 
prose  and  poetry  as  related  to  idea.  There  is  another 
element,  form.  Strong  emotions  and  eager  passions 
spontaneously  express  themselves  by  a  rhythmical 
movement.  Love,  death,  and  war  move  men  to  whai 
in  ordinary  circumstances  they  wou'^Jl  not  attempt — 
the  writing  of  verse.  Meter,  rhythm,  and,  in  unin- 
flected  languages,  rhyme,  are  the  natural  forms  for  the 

*  Rhetoric,  Part  iii,  Chap,  iii,  §  3. 
f  De  Quincey's  Review  of  Whatety. 


36  INTRODUCTION. 

expression  of  pure  feeling.*  Pure  thought  is  content 
with  the  irregular  forms  of  prose,  and,  unless  united 
with  feeling  in  sentiment,  seems  awkward  and  absurd 
in  verse.  Poetry  and  prose  differ,  tlion,  in  idea  and  in 
form.  Poetry  is  emotive  ideas  in  emotive  language  ; 
prose  is  intellective  ideas  in  intellective  language.  Both 
are  forms  of  discourse,  and  may  be  treated  together. 

(7)  The  Difference  Relative.— This  difference  be- 
tween prose  and  poetry  is  simply  relative.  There 
are  compositions  upon  which  a  conclusive  judgment 
could  scarcely  be  passed,  since  they  possess  such  a 
union  of  thought  and  feeling,  and  a  form  so  rhyth- 
mical without  being  verse  as  to  defy  classification. 
This,  however,  is  no  objection  to  our  offering  a  defini- 
tion, or  insisting  upon  the  one  already  given.  We 
all  agree  that  a  vegetable  is  not  an  animal,  yet  there 
are  forms  of  life  so  closely  uniting  the  characteristic? 
of  each  as  to  puzzle  the  most  expert  in  classification. 
Of  course,  almost  any  specimen  of  prose  contains  some 
element  of  feeling.  The  most  heartless,  and,  there- 
lore,  real  prose  is,  A  is  B,  C  is  A,  therefore  C  is  B. 
Even  this  formula  has  some  emotive  power  when  we 
descend  from  the  airy  region  of  pure  abstraction,  and 
make  A  B  and  0  signify  objects  having  human  rela- 
tions. To  some  minds  there  is  a  poetical  element  in 
the  driest  mathematical  reasoning,  especially  when  it^ 
lifts  the  veil  from  infinitude,  and  displays  the  harmony, 
order,  and  benevolence  which  the  science  of  nnmbei? 
roveals.  So,  on  the  other  hand,  true  poetry  is  nevci 
wholly  devoid  of  thought.  It  appeals  to  the  sensibili- 
ties through  the  intellect.  What  constitutes  it  poetry 
is,  that,  in  both  form  and  idea,  it  aims  at  and  reaches 
*  The  reason  5s  given  in  Book  III.  Chap,  iii,  Sect.  i. 


INTRODUCTION.  31 

the  seat  of  emotion,  and  does  riot  stop  at  the  intellect 
which  translates  it  and  unfolds  it  to  the  feelings. 
Kvcry  faculty  of  the  intellect  is  thus  addressed  by 
poetry  as  well  as  hy  prose.  Indeed,  it  is  only  as  it  ad- 
dresses the  feelings  through  the  different  faculties  of 
the  intellect,  that  poetry  is  capable  of  any  philosoph- 
ical classification. 

(8)  Versification  a  Part  of  Grammar.— Although 

poetry  is  here  regarded  as  a  form  of  discourse,  versifi- 
cation is  excluded  from  the  province  of  Rhetoric, 
since  it  belongs  properly  to  Grammar.  Its  rules  are 
given  in  that  science  under  the  fourth  division, 
or  Prosody. 

8.  The  Province  of  Rhetoric. 

All  worthy  discourse  aims  at  producing  some 
change  in  the  mind  addressed.  It  may  be  a  change  of 
knowledge,  or  instruction  ;  a  change  of  opinions,  or 
conviction  ;  a  change  of  disposition,  or  persuasion  ;  or 
a  change  of  the  passing  emotion  for  its  own  sake,  or 
mere  entertainment  Whatever  this  change  be,  it  is 
produced  by  ideas.  These  ideas  are  effective  in  pro- 
ducing the  change  only  when  they  are  assimilated  to 
the  dominant  ideas  of  the  mind  addressed.  The  rhet- 
orical process  extends  farther  than  the  mere  presenta- 
tion of  ideas  ;  it  is  complete  only  when  those  ideas  are 
referred  to  the  preexisting  ideas  of  the  person  addressed 
in  such  a  manner  that  they  will  effect  the  desired 
change.  All  mental  changes  take  place  in  accordance 
with  certain  laws.  As  an  art.  Rhetoric  communicates 
ideas  according  to  these  laws  ;  as  a  science,  it  discovers 
aud  establishes  these  laws.  Rhetoric  is,  therefore,  the 
science  of  the  laws  of  effective  discourse. 


3b  IJTTRODUCTIOK. 

9.  Related  Sciences. 

Rhetoric  is  closely  allied  with  several  sciences  which 
deal  in  some  way  with  discourse. 

(1)  Grammar. — Every  language  has  its  peculiar 
i  lioms  and  forms.     These  constitute  its  special  gram 
mar.     Universal  or  philosophical  grammar  considers 
language  generally  as  an  instrument  of  thought  and 
expression.     Rhetoric  is  distinct  from  every  form  of 
grammar,    and  everywhere  presupposes   grammatical 
accuracy. 

(2)  Logic. — Discourse  is  governed  by  certain  laws 
of  thought  which  must  be  regarded  in  effective  speech. 
These  laws  of  pure  thought  are  the  subject  matter  of 
Logic.     While  Logic  deals  with  the  nature  and  laws 
of  thought,  Rhetoric  deals  with  the  effective  commu- 
nication of  thought.     Logic  is  the  statics,  Rhetoric  the 
dynamics  of  thought. 

(3)  JEsthetics. — Language,  in  common  with  every- 
thing else  which  can  affect  the  sensibilities,  is  the  sub- 
ject-matter  of   applied  ^Esthetics.      This   science   is 
closely  connected  with  the  proper  estimate  of  discourse 
regarded  as  a  fine  art.     It  is  an  important  auxiliary, 
but  by  no  means  a  rival  of  Rhetoric. 

(4)  Psychology. — As    the    science    of     effecting 
mental  changes,  Rhetoric  often  borders  closely  upon 
the  science  of  Psychology,  which  treats  of  the  laws  of 
mind.     Any  effective  presentation  of  ideas  to  the  mind 
for   the  purpose   of    changing  it,    presupposes  some 
knowledge  of  its  laws.     Hence  Rhetoric,  though  dis 
tinct  in  its  province,  borrows  many  facts  and  laws  from 
Psychology. 

(5)  Elocution. — Vocal  delivery  has  often  been  re- 
garded as  a  part  of  Rhetoric.     Although  it  is  an  im- 


INTRO  DUCTIOK.  39 

portaiiJ  aid  to  the  effectiveness  of  discourse,  several 
considerations  exclude  it  from  this  science.  Elocution 
is  a  bodily  exercise  requiring  a  peculiar  kind  of  train- 
ing. A  person  may  acquire  excellence  as  a  writer  whilo 
deficient  as  a  speaker,  and  hence  may  be  a  rhetorician 
without  being  an  elocutionist.  Ideas  may  be  expressed 
to  the  eye  as  well  as  to  the  ear,  so  that  elocution  has 
no  closer  connection  with  Rhetoric  than  Penmanship. 

10.  Departments  of  Rhetoric. 

Discourse,  then,  aims  to  produce  a  change  (1)  in 
the  mind,  (2)  ~by  means  of  ideas,  (3)  expressed  through 
language.  The  science  of  producing  mental  changes 
must  include  an  account  of  the  laws  of  the  mind,  the 
idea,  and  the  form.  The  laws  of  mind  which  affect 
the  change  of  ideas,  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  the 
main  classes  of  ideas,  the  special  properties  of  language 
as  a  medium  of  expression,  all  belong  to  the  sphere  oi 
Rhetoric.  The  remainder  of  this  work,  therefore,  con- 
sists of  the  following  main  divisions  : 

BOOK  I. — LAWS  or  MIKD. 

BOOK  II. — LAWS  OP  IDEA. 

BOOK  III.— LAWS  OF  FOBM. 


40 


INTKODUCTIOtf. 


SYNOPSIS. 


Rhetoric. ' 


I.  Laws  of  Mind. 


II.  Laws  of  Idea. 


HI.  Laws  of  Form. 


1    Laws  of  Iitellecl 

1.  General  Laws.       -< 

2    Laws  of  the  Fool- 

ipgs. 

11    Effects  of  Ajre. 

2.  Effects  of  Expe- 

II. 

Particular  Laws.  « 

rience. 

3.  Effects  of  Affilia- 

tion. 

I.  Description. 

il.  Objects  of  Sense 
2.  Mental  States. 

3.  Character. 

'1.  Selection  of  Cir 

cumstances. 

n. 

Narration. 

2.  Sequence  of 

Events. 

3.  Synchronism  of 

Events. 

1.  Of  a  Notion  in 

1 

Itself. 

in. 

Exposition. 

2.  Of  a  Notion  thro 

Another. 

1.  A  priori  Argu- 

ments. 

IV. 

Argumentation 

" 

2.  Arguments  froie 
Sfgn. 

o.  Arguments  from 

Resemblance. 

4.  Conduct  of  a 

Discourse. 

1.  Diction. 

I.  Plain  Language. 

2.  Sentences. 

'1.  Founded  on  Re- 

semblance. 

II. 

Figures. 

2.  Founded  on  Con- 
tiguity. 

3.  Founded  on  Con 

trast. 

1.  Variety. 

m. 

The  Peelings. 

2.  Harmony. 

BOOK    I. 


OF    MINL 


THE 

SCIENCE    OF    RHETORIC. 


BOOK  I.— LAWS  OF  MIND. 

1.  Method  of  Treatment  Explained. 

The  philosophy  of  the  human  mind  is  too  vast  a 
theme  for  even  the  briefest  outline  in  a  work  like  this. 
Psychology,  ./Esthetics,  and  Logic  are  extensive  and 
important  sciences,  which  should  receive  due  attention 
from  the  rhetorician.  This  treatment  of  the  Laws  of 
Mind  in  their  relations  to  Rhetoric  is,  accordingly,  but 
an  imperfect  sketch,  designed  to  direct  attention  to 
the  necessity  of  studying  mental  science,  if  one  would 
excel  in  the  science  of  discourse. 

2.  Classification  of  Mental  Phenomena. 

The  phenomena  of  the  mind  may  all  be  referred  to 
the  following  three  classes  : 

(1)  Knowledge,  or  Cognitions  ; 

(2)  Pleasures  and  Pains,  or  Feelings  ; 

(3)  Exertions,  or  Conations. 

3    Relations  of  these  Phenomena. 

These  phenomena  are  important  to  the  rhetorician, 
since  his  purpose  of  assimilating  new  ideas  to  the  mind 
addressed  can  be  accomplished  tli rough  these  only. 


44  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETOKIC. 

Without  cognition  there  could  be  neither  feeling  noi 
conation  ;  and  without  feeling  there  could  be  no  cona- 
(ion.  For  example,  a  person  is  fond  of  cards.  "  In 
a  company  where  he  beholds  a  game  in  progress,  there 
arises  a  desire  to  join  in  it.  Now  the  desire  is  hen 
manifestly  kindled  by  the  pleasure  which  the  person 
had,  and  has,  in  the  play.  The  feeling  thus  connects 
the  cognition  of  the  play  with  the  desire  to  join  in  it ; 
it  forms  the  bridge,  and  contains  the  motive,  by  which 
we  are  aroused  from  mere  knowledge  to  appetency, — 
to  conation,  by  reference  to  which  we  move  ourselves 
so  as  to  attain  the  end  in  view."*  Men  are  moved  to 
action  by  three  steps  :  (1)  an  idea  is  presented  to  the 
mind  for  cognition  ;  (2)  the  idea  produces  a  state  of 
feeling  ;  (3)  the  feeling  excites  action. 

4,  Division  of  this  Book. 

There  are  certain  laws  of  mind  which  are  universal 
among  sane  men.  In  addition  to  these,  there  are  cer- 
tain rules  of  action  which  grow  out  of  particular  modes 
of  life  or  degrees  of  mental  development.  We  need, 
therefore,  to  consider  separately  the  general  laws  of 
mind,  and  the  particular  laws  depending  upon  indi- 
vidual circumstances. 

*  Quoted  by  Sir  William  Hamilton  Metaphysics 


THE    GENERAL    LAWS    OF    MIND. 

THE  rhetorician  must  address  the  mind  in  accord- 
ance with  its  laws  of  action.  This  requires  him  to 
adapt  his  ideas  to  (1)  the  INTELLECT,  or  faculty  of 
cognition  ;  (2)  the  FEELINGS,  or  faculty  of  sensibility. 
Theso  divisions  of  mind  will  be  considered  in  the 
following  sections. 

SECTION  I. 

INTELLECT. 

IF  dividing  and  classifying  the  powers  of  the  mind, 
it  should  be  remembered  that  the  mind  is  a  unit,  and 
that  all  its  powers  are  contemporaneously  exerted. 
Yet,  for  purposes  of  study,  we  must  subject  the  mind 
to  dissection,  as  the  anatomist  does  the  body.  The 
intellect  is  occupied  with  discourse  in  three  ways  ;  (1) 
as  REASON,  (?•)  as  IMAGINATION,  and  (3)  as  MEMORY. 

I.    REASON. 

1.  Nature  of  the  Laws  of  Thought. 

When  we  s^A  of  laws  of  thought  as  the  universal 
and  necessary  conditions  of  mental  action,  it  must  not 
be  supposed  that  the  necessity  is  the  same  as  in  the 
material  world.  The  laws  of  thought  may  be  violated, 


46  THE   SCIENCE   OF   KHETORIC. 

while  in  the  physical  world  a  law  signifies  a  constant 
mode  of  action.  Logical  necessity  refers  to  a  precept 
which  we  may  violate,  but  not  without  invalidating 
our  whole  mental  process.  These  laws  of  thought  are 
the  necessary  conditions  of  valid  thinking,  and  not 
necessary  modes  of  action,  like  the  law  of  gravitation. 
The  treatment  of  these  laws  belongs  properly  to  Logic, 
but  they  must  be  kept  in  mind  by  the  rhetorician.  A 
full  discussion  of  them  will  be  found  in  most  works  on 
Logic.  Only  a  few  practical  suggestions  are  given 
here. 

2.  Rhetorical  Use  of  the  Laws  of  Thought. 

The  speaker  or  writer  must  address  the  mind  in 
accordance  with  these  laws,  or  encounter  opposition  to 
his  ideas.  He  may,  indeed,  succeed  in  imposing  falla- 
cies upon  the  unthinking,  but  even  the  most  ignorant 
possess  an  intelligence  which  cannot  be  wholly  disre- 
garded. Confidence  in  the  authority  of  another  may 
insure  the  reception  of  paradoxical  statements  to  some 
extent,  but  the  mind  is  so  constituted  that  it  instinct- 
ively rejects  whatever  is  manifestly  inconsistent  with 
its  own  laws.  Fallacies  are  not  open  violations  of  the 
laws  of  thought,  but  subtle  evasions  of  them,  which 
the  intelligence  does  not  detect.  A  fallacy  seems  to 
satisfy  the  conditions  of  valid  thinking  without  really 
doing  so.  Since  the  rhetorician  is  subject  to  the  laws 
of  ethics,  not  as  a  rhetorician,  but  as  a  moral  being, 
he  has  no  more  right  to  use  an  intentional  fallacy  than 
to  employ  any  other  kind  of  deception.  The  true  rhe- 
torical procedure  is  to  address  the  understanding  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  satisfy  the  requirements  of  its  laws 
and  show  a  marked  respect  for  its  authority. 


LAWS  OF  MIND.  4? 

3.  Direct  Address  to  the  Reason. 

Reason  differs  from  some  other  faculties  of  tli3 
mind  in  admitting  of  direct  appeal.  Men  naturally 
oppose  any  avowed  attempt  on  the  part  of  a  writer  or 
speaker  to  dictate  to  the  feelings,  but  readily  accord  to 
him  the  privilege  of  assisting  them  in  the  operations 
of  reason.  Truth  is  often  so  many-sided  and  so  diffi- 
cult of  apprehension,  that  aid  in  reaching  correct 
judgments  is  not  thought  to  imply  inferiority.  It  is, 
therefore,  no  offense  if  we  announce  a  proposition  to 
be  proved,  and  invite  candid  criticism  of  the  argu- 
ments adduced.  It  rather  gives  evidence  of  fairness 
in  presenting  our  ideas,  and  is  a  compliment  to  the 
persons  addressed,  as  if  a  recognition  that  they  possess 
a  test  of  truth. 

4.  General  Confidence  in  Reason. 

If  not  universally  recognized  as  an  absolute  stand- 
ard of  truth,  reason  is  nevertheless  the  highest  tribu- 
nal to  which  men  may  appeal  in  the  affairs  of  life.  It 
is  generally  confessed  to  be  correct  in  its  decisions 
unless  deceived  by  fallacies.  However  much  one  may 
doubt  the  infallibility  of  others,  most  men  confide  in 
their  own  acuteness  in  detecting  sophistry.  They  are 
far  more  distrustful  of  their  feelings,  even  when  these 
are  known  to  be  such  as  the  occasion  demands,  or 
even  to  fall  far  short  of  their  proper  intensity.  Even 
experience  is  sometimes  questioned  when  it  conflict? 
with  rational  consistency.  Truth  is  instinctively  felt 
to  be  a  harmony  between  our  conceptions  and  reali- 
ties, and  consistency  is  demanded  in  facts  as  well  as  in 
thought.  A  plausible  theory  is  often  more  readily 
received  than  an  anomalous  fact. 


48  THE  SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

5.  Permanence  of  Fallacious  Notions. 

It  is  a  fact  of  great  importance  to  the  rhetorician 
:hat  the  strongest  emotions  are  generally  of  brief  dura- 
tion,, while  a  fallacy  may  remain  undetected  long  after 
it  begins  to  deceive  the  mind.  The  feelings  change 
with  the  surroundings,  while  reason  remains  the  same. 
Hence  a  determination  based  on  a  temporary  emotion 
may  be  lost  when  the  emotion  has  subsided  and  the 
mind  views  the  facts  in  a  different  aspect.  But  a  con- 
viction founded  on  a  train  of  reasoning  having  once 
been  reached,  our  confidence  in  our  conclusion  often 
prevents  a  re-examination  of  the  facts.  Even  if  we 
revise  our  former  reasoning,  a  fallacy  which  once  de- 
ceived may  continue  to  elude  us.  Emotion  dominates 
over  the  mind  less  and  less  with  the  progress  of  time, 
while  a  fallacy,  if  not  detected,  becomes  more  and 
more  influential.  By  being  repeatedly  assumed  as 
true,  a  false  conclusion  at  last  acquires  the  force  of  an 
undisputed  truth,  and  often  propagates  itself  by  being 
dsed  as  a  premise  in  other  reasoning. 

6.  Importance  of  the  Laws  of  Thought. 

Since  the  mind  is  governed  by  certain  laws  of 
thought  in  which  men  confide  as  the  highest  authority, 
every  presentation  of  ideas  to  the  mind  must  recognize 
the  existence  of  these  laws.  N"or  is  it  safe  to  trifle 
with  them,  v;o  say  nothing  of  the  moral  requirements 
of  the  case.  They  are  the  natural  safeguards  of  the 
mind,  preserving  it  from  delusion  and  felly.  They 
are  the  only  defense  of  the  unsophisticated  against 
the  trickery  of  the  demagogue  and  the  charlatan. 
However  they  may  be  perverted,  these  laws  are  the  sen* 


LAWS   OF   MIXD.  49 

duels  of  the  mind,  demanding  the  passport  of  every 
new  idea  which  claims  admission,  and,  although  they 
oiay  be  deceived  by  sophistry,  and  enticed  from  duty 
oy  interest,  they  generally  guard  the  portals  of  Truth' 
temple  with  vigilance  and  fidelity. 

II.     IMAGINATION. 

The  imagination  is  the  faculty  which  represents 
images  to  the  mind.  We  shall  find  it  the  basis  of  at- 
tention, bolief,  and  action. 

1.  Attention. 

Attention  is  the  concentration  of  the  consciousness 
upon  some  one  idea  or  class  of  ideas.  Its  intensity  and 
duration  are  influenced  by  the  forms  in  which  ideas 
are  presented.  Dry  and  abstract  formulas  are  generally 
repulsive  except  to  trained  minds.  Objects  of  sense, 
especially  in  new  combinations,  are  capable  of  holding 
Jie  attention  through  the  imagination.  Forms  and 
colors  engage  the  attention  by  pleasing  the  mind. 
Accordingly  the  rhetorician  who  would  hold  the  atten- 
tion of  either  readers  or  hearers  must  so  present  his 
ideas  as  to  fulfill  this  condition  of  mental  action. 
Long  and  involved  processes  of  argument  must  be  so 
relieved  by  an  appeal  to  this  faculty,  as  to  occupy  it 
with  the  subject,  or  it  will  spontaneously  engage  itself 
with  its  own  creations,  and  the  attention  will  be  lost 
apon  these. 

2.  Belief. 

Intensity  of  belief  depends  upon  a  vivid  realization 

of  relations.     We  are  often  more  deeply  moved  by  a 

poet's  fancies  than  by  the  most  thoroughly  established 

convictions.     Although  we  may  yield  a  cold  assent  to 

3 


50  .  THE   SCIENCE   OF   KHETGRIG, 

an  abstract  proposition  which  has  been  proved  by  ap- 
parently valid  reasoning,  still  its  influence  over  our  life 
is  comparatively  slight.  The  scenes  and  characters  of 
a  fictitious  story  are  much  more  real  to  us  than  the 
events  and  heroes  of  a  dry  historical  compend.  For 
the  moment  we  believe  in  details  purely  imaginary, 
when  they  are  addressed  to  the  power  of  representation 
so  as  to  fill  the  mind.  Ideas  thus  communicated  be- 
come associated  strongly  in  the  mind,  and  belief  is 
often  revived  by  the  vivid  recurrence  of  the  images 
which  excited  it. 

3.  Action, 

Action  is  the  product  of  thought  and  feeling.  An 
object  is  presented  to  the  mind,  the  contemplation  of 
it  awakens  desires,  and  the  desires  lead  to  action. 
Without  the  presentation  of  objects  which  excite  the 
feelings,  no  action  can  be  produced.  Hence  the  im- 
agination must  be  employed  by  the  rhetorician  as  a 
principal  assistant  in  persuasion. 


III.  MEMORY. 

Complex  ideas  can  be  presented  to  the  mind  only 
by  the  aid  of  memory.  The  action  of  the  mind  in 
some  of  its  more  prolonged  processes  will  illustrate 
this. 

1.  Conviction. 

A  change  in  the  opinions  is  generally  produced  Lj 
argumentation.  This  requires  a  series  of  propositions 
to  be  shown  in  their  relation  to  one  another,  and  often 
occupies  considerable  time.  In  what  is  called  "  moral  " 
or  "  probable  "  reasoning,  where  the  conclusion  is  based 


LAWS   OF   MIND.  51 

upon  a  number  of  particulars  which  separately  are  of 
email  value,  but  which  are  conclusive  when  contem- 
plated together,  this  exercise  of  memory  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  the  argument.  Even  in  demonstrative 
reasoning,  where  the  conclusion  is  obtained  from  a 
single  proposition  by  a  series  of  deductions,  the  pro- 
cesses are  often  numerous,  and  the  order  of  the  steps 
is  important.  Since  the  effect  of  argument  upon  the 
mi  rid  requires  the  retention  of  these  successive  steps, 
the  rhetorician  must  construct  his  argument  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  avoid  the  danger  of  missing  an  impor- 
tant link  in  the  chain. 

2.  Persuasion. 

As  we  have  seen,  persuasion  depends  upon  the 
cognition  of  some  idea  which  excites  feeling,  which  in 
turn  stimulates  action.  Usually  the  will  is  moved 
only  when  a  number  of  motives  are  presented,  either 
together  or  in  close  array.  The  aggregation  of  mo- 
tives in  persuasion  requires  the  exercise  of  memory, 
in  order  to  keep  before  the  mind  the  incentives  suc- 
cessively presented. 

3.  Language. 

Language,  the  medium  of  expression  in  discourse, 
is  so  related  to  time  that  the  memory  must  be  em- 
ployed to  treasure  up  its  symbols  for  comparative 
interpretation.  This  function  of  memory  is  vitally 
connected  with  the  laws  of  form,  and  will  be  notice*? 
again  in  treating  of  them. 


62  THE  SCIENCE   OF  RHETORIC. 

• 

SECTION  II. 

THE  FEELINGS. 

The  second  main  class  of  mental  phenomena  should 
be  studied  with  great  care  by  the  rhetorician.  No  one 
would  have  the  presumption  to  play  upon  an  organ 
with  a  score  of  stops  unless  he  were  skilled  in  their 
management.  The  human  heing  is  capable  of  a  greater 
variety  of  feelings  than  an  organ  is  of  tones.  The 
orator  who  does  not  understand  the  laws  of  feeling  may 
not  make  audible  discords,  but  he  is  sure  to  violate  the 
harmonic  principles  of  a  far  higher  and  more  wonder- 
ful music.  Only  a  brief  outline  of  the  theory  of  the 
feelings  can  be  given  here.  We  shall  consider  (1)  the 
CLASSIFICATION  of  the  feelings  ;  (2)  the  PKODUCTION 
of  emotions,  and  (3)  the  MODIFICATION  of  emotions. 

I.  CLASSIFICATION. 

1.  Necessary  Imperfection. 

Any  classification  of  the  feelings  must  be  imperfect 
from  the  nature  of  this  mode  of  mind.  It  is  easy  to 
classify  objects  which  may  be  pointed  out  and  named, 
but  states  of  feeling  are  not  so  easily  distinguished. 
Any  classification  must  be  cumbrous  and  superficial, 
and  can  only  supply  an  outline. 

2.  Sensations  and  Sentiments. 

If  the  finger  be  pricked  with  a  pin,  apart  from  the 
knowledge  that  the  cuticle  has  been  punctured,  then/ 


LAWS   OF  MIND.  53 

is  something  else  which  we  call  pain.  Such  a,  feeling 
produced  in  the  bodily  organism  is  called  a  sensation. 

You  stand  in  the  presence  of  a  beautiful  painting 
representing  a  benevolent  act.  Apart  from  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  skill  with  which  the  painting  is  executed 
and  the  utility  of  the  act,  you  are  conscious  of  beauty 
in  the  picture  and  morality  in  the  act.  This  sense  of 
beauty  and  of  morality  we  call  sentiments. 

It  is  not  the  part  of  the  rhetorician  to  deal  with 
sensations,  which  are  bodily  affections,  but  he  must 
understand  the  sentiments,  which  are  mental  affections, 
or  he  can  never  skillfully  move  to  action  the  mind 
addressed. 

3.  Scheme  of  the  Sentiments. 

The  following  scheme,  modified  for  our  purpose 
from  Hamilton,  may  be  useful  in  exhibiting  the  vari- 
ous sentiments  which  govern  human  action  : 

( Tedium. 
Contemplative.  •<  Truth. 

f  ^Esthetic  emotions. 

Sentiments.  \  ( Self-preservation. 

I  Enjoyment  of  existence. 
Practical.   -[  Preservation  of  the  species. 

Self-development. 
I  Moral  law. 

Any  existing  form  of  sentiment,  simple  or  complex, 
may  be  called  an  emotion.  This  term  will  be  used  in- 
terchangeably with  the  word  sentiment.  For  a  full 
treatment  of  these  sentiments,  reference  may  be  n>a<lu 
to  Hamilton's  Metaphysics. 


64  THE  SCIENCE  OF   RHETORIC. 

II.    THE  PRODUCTION  OF  EMOTION. 
1.  The  Necessity  of  Feeling. 

That  action  is  impossible  without  feeling,  in  th<i 
sense  in  which  it  is  here  used,  has  been  shown  by  Dr. 
Campbell.  ''To  say  that  it  is  possible  to  persuade 
without  speaking  to  the  passions,  is  but  at  best  a  kind 
of  specious  nonsense.  The  coolest  reasoner  always  in 
persuading,  addresseth  himself  to  the  passions  in  some 
way  or  other.  This  he  cannot  avoid  doing,  if  he  speak 
to  the  purpose.  To  make  me  believe,  it  is  enough  to 
show  me  that  things  are  so  ;  to  make  me  act,  it  is  ne- 
cessary to  show  that  the  action  will  answer  some  end. 
That  can  never  be  an  end  to  me  which  gratifies  no 
passion  or  affection  in  my  nature.  You  assure  me  '  It 
is  for  my  honor.'  Now  you  solicit  my  pride,  without 
which  I  had  never  been  able  to  understand  the  word. 
You  say,  '  It  is  for  my  interest.'  Now  you  bespeak  my 
self-love.  '  It  is  for  the  public  good.'  Now  you  rouse 
my  patriotism.  ( It  will  relieve  the  miserable.'  Now 
you  touch  my  pity.  So  far  therefore  is  it  from  being 
an  unfair  method  of  persuasion  to  move  the  passions, 
that  there  is  no  persuasion  without  moving  them."  * 

2.  Emotions  Involuntary. 

No  one  can  produce  a  given  kind  of  feeling  by  sim- 
ply willing  to  do  so  Dr.  Whately  compares  feeling 
to  the  involuntary  organs  and  processes  of  the  body. 
We  cannot  alter  any  of  the  bodily  secretions  by  a  voli- 
lion,  nor  can  we  directly  retard  or  accelerate  the  pul- 
sations of  the  heart.  Our  control  over  the  feelings 

*  Philosophy  of  Rfietoric. 


LAWS  OF  MIND.  55 

depends  upon  the  use  of  the  appointed  means.  As 
we  may  affect  the  secretioirs,  or  the  action  of  the  hcatl, 
oy  taking  medicines,  so  we  may  excite  a  feeling  of  a 
certain  kind  by  presenting  the  stimulating  objects  to 
the  mind.  To  arouse  the  emotion  of  beauty,  we  must 
present  a  beautiful  object  ;  to  excite  pity,  wo  must 
present  a  scene  or  person  that  will  call  it  forth. 

3.  Stimulating  Circumstances. 

Several  circumstances  are  specially  adapted  to  the 
production  of  feeling. 

(1)  Probability. — Probability  is   based   on   proof, 
und  so  operates  upon   the  emotional  nature  with  the 
force  of  conviction.     When  the  probability  is  absolute, 
feeling  has  the  assurance  of  demonstration.     The  most 
ingenious  speculations  are  often  devoid  of  interest  if 
wanting  in  probability. 

(2)  Verisimilitude, — Verisimilitude  arises  from  a 
consistent  narrative.     It  must  be  distinguished  from 
probability,  which  has  relation  to  actuality,  while  veri- 
similitude has  reference  to  consistency.     A  story  want- 
ing in  verisimilitude,  requires  strong  external  evidence 
to  render  it  probable.     A  narrative  may  want  verisi- 
militude and  still  be  true,  or  it  may  possess  verisimili- 
tude,   and   still    be   false.     Probability  results    from 
pi  oof  ;  verisimilitude  is  an  internal  consistency.     The 
historian  aims  at  probability  ;  the  poet  and  novelist 
aim  at  verisimilitude.     The  latter  alone  is  necessary 
to   the  production    of  sympathetic  interest.     Fiction 
arouses  our  emotions  as  well  as  history,  and  produces 
the  same  sympathetic  effect. 

(3)  Ideal  Presence. — The  power  of  fiction  to  affect 
the  mind  is  wholly  owing  to  ideal   presence,  or  im 


56  THE   SCIEKCE   OF   KHETORIC. 

aginative  realization  of  relations.  In  a  perfect  ae! 
of  memory,  it  is  the  ideal  presence  which  excites  eino 
tion.  In  reading  fiction,  this  ideal  presence  ma)7  bo  s.( 
rividly  realized  by  the  imagination  as  to  seem  for  UK 
moment  actual.  In  reading  history  also,  it  is  the  same 
ideal  presence  which  occupies  the  mind.  Lord  Kanies 
remarks  that  history  and  fiction  here  stand  upon  the 
same  footing.  Nor  is  the  emotion  produced  by  history 
less  modified  by  reflection  than  that  produced  by  fiction. 
If  the  reflection  that  a  description  is  pure  fiction  will 
destroy  our  sympathy,  so  to  an  equal  degree  will  the 
reflection  that  the  historical  personages  are  not  in  ex. 
J5tence.  Why  should  the  story  of  Caesars  assassination 
excite  our  horror,  when  Csesar  has  been  past  help  for 
nearly  twenty  centuries  ?  Why  should  the  story  of 
little  Nell,  as  told  by  Dickens,  move  our  sympathy, 
when  we  know  that  little  Nell  is  a  creation  of  the  brain  ! 
The  picture  is  truthful  and  vivid,  the  scenes  are  ideally 
present,  and  hence  momentarily  real. 

(4)  Minute  Details. — Since  the  feelings  are  awak 
ened  by  contemplation,  it  is  important  to  dwell  upon 
the  ideas  which  excite  the  feelings.  These  are  not 
abstractions,  but  minute  and  pictorial  details.  The 
word  "battle"  is  not  very  terrible,  but  a  detailed  ac- 
count of  a  battle,  from  the  first  shock  of  encounter  to 
the  personal  sufferings  of  the  wounded  and  dying,  and 
the  desolation  of  the  bereaved,  touches  the  whole  emo- 
tional nature,  and  we  "live  the  battle  o'er."  This 
principle  is  instinctively  acted  upon  when  in  announc- 
ing sad  news  we  suppress  all  details.  Homer  with  con- 
summate art  represents  the  messenger  as  announcing 
the  death  of  Patroclus  to  Achilles  in  the  brief  sentence, 
"Patroclus  is  fallen  ;"  to  the  reader,  whose  sympathy 


LAWS  OF  MIND,  57 

must  be  aroused,  he  gives  a  detailed  account  of  the 
battle  in  which  Patroclus  fell. 

(5)  Proximity   of  Time. — The   effect   of   proxim- 
.ty  of  time  upon  the  feelings  may  be  illustrated  in  many 
ways.     Events  long  past  do  not  affect  us  like  those 
of  yesterday.     The  accident  of  the  hour  creates  a  gen- 
eral sensation,  while  a  more  terrible  catastrophe  of  by- 
gone years  scarcely  engages  the  attention.     Death  is 
the  inevitable  termination  of  every  life,  but  that  event 
touches  our  feelings  only  as  it  is  believed  to  be  near 
Ingenious   story-tellers  represent  their  tale  as  new 
Orators  impress  upon  their  auditors  the  necessity  of 
immediate  action  because  of  immediate  consequences. 
As  a  rule,  men  are  more  interested  in  the  future  than 
in  the  past. 

(6)  Proximity  Of  Place. — Nearness  of  locality  has 
an  effect  corresponding  to  proximity  of  time.     Space 
seems   to   be  a  closer   bond   of  interest  than   time. 
Men  are  more  generally  interested  in  historical  events 
of  their  own  country  during  preceding  centuries,  than 
in  the  occurrences  of  the  same  century  in  far  off  lands. 
Some  lands,  by  classic  or  religious  associations,  are  of 
special  interest  notwithstanding  their  distance.     We 
are  more  interested  in  the  prosperity  of  our  neighbors 
than  in  that  of  aliens.     An  accident  in  Europe  excites 
but  little  sympathy  compared  with  a  mishap  to  a  fellow 
townsman,  although  he  be  not  a  personal  acquaintance. 
The  scenes  of  great  events  are  more  expressive  than 
their  a n n iversaries. 

(7)  Personal  Relation, — The  ties  of  consanguinity. 
friendship,  acquaintance,  even  citizenship,  are    influ- 
ential in  arousing   our   feelings.      A   relative   under 
arrest,   a  friend    in    trouble,   an   acquaintance   killed 

3* 


58  THE   SCIENCE   OF    RHETORIC. 

in  battle,  a  fellow  citizen  unjustly  treated,, — are  moru 
likely  to  stir  our  sympathy  than  foreigners  in  like  con- 
jit  ions.  This  general  statement  is  subject  to  some 
limitation.  The  tendency  of  modern  life,  inspired  by 
the  precepts  of  Christian  fraternity,  is  toward  broader 
feimpathies  and  the  extinction  of  the  clannish  spirit. 

(8)  Indirectness, — In  order  to  convince  the   un- 
derstanding, it  is  necessary  to  keep  before  the  mind 
the  precise  point  to  be  established.     The  method  of 
argumentation   is,    therefore,    direct.      The    opposite 
method  is  most  readily  productive  of  feeling.     Hence 
the  less  formal  and  announced,  and  the  more  inciden- 
tal and  indirect  the  presentation  of  ideas  intended  to 
excite  the  emotions,  the  more   successful  it  will   be. 
Men  are  generally  suspicious  of  any  dictation  to  theii 
feelings,  and  accordingly  set  themselves  in  opposition 
to  any  obvious  attempt  to  arouse  feeling. 

(9)  General  Importance. — Ideas  move  us  accord- 
ing to  their  importance.     When  multitudes  are  affected, 
when  great  worth  and  dignity  are  involved,  when  the 
interests  of  society  are  at  stake,  when  useful  schemes 
of  public  improvement  are  presented,  interest  is  pro- 
portionally great. 

(10)  Connection  with  the  Consequences.— inter- 
est reaches  its  highest  development  when   the  indi- 
vidual sees  himself  to  be  involved.     Appeals  to  self- 
preservation,  self-development,  or    enjoyment  of  ex- 
istence, are  certain  to  produce  interest.     Self  is  the 
center  of  interest.     Sympathy  is  but  a  reflected  irtei- 
est.     The  consequences  to  society  may  be  very  poteiit 
in   moving  good  men,  but   consequences   to   self  are 
efficacious  in  moving  all  men.     Most   social    motives 
may  be  made  personal  motives.     Thus  if  a  person  be 


LAWS   OF   MIND.  59 

touched  vfittipUy  at  the  sight  of  suffering,  his  relation 
to  the  suffering  may  be  ?xhibited  in  such  a  light  as  to 
*,ouch  the  principle  of  self-preservation.  As  a  general 
rule,  no  idea  is  assimilated  to  the  mind  addressed  so  as 
to  be  most  effective,  until  it  has  been  put  in  it 
closest  possible  relation  to  the  principles  of  self-love. 
The  nature  of  the  idea  may  prevent  its  being  carried 
beyond  the  circle  of  sympathy,  but  the  aim  should  be 
at  the  core  of  human  interest. 

III.   THE  MODIFICATION  OF  EMOTION. 

1.  The  Law  of  Change. 

The  emotions  are  the  most  complex  part  of  mental 
experience.  One  law,  however,  runs  through  the 
whole  emotional  nature, — the  law  of  change.  No 
state  of  feeling  is  uninterruptedly  persistent.  Emo- 
tion is  subject  to  ceaseless  ebb  and  flow,  and  its  transi- 
tions are  often  instantaneous.  The  same  cause  will 
not  sustain  the  same  emotion  for  a  great  length  of 
time.  Its  duration  may  be  prolonged  only  by  an  in- 
creasing cause,  like  a  climax,  but  even  this  means  soon 
fails  by  reaching  its  utmost. 

2.  Dominant  States  of  Feeling. 

Certain  states  of  feeling,  however,  become  habitual, 
and  dominate  over  those  of  less  frequent  occurrence. 
In  some  men  there  is  a  frequent  recurrence  of  the 
[esthetic  sentiments,  in  others  of  the  moral  sentiments, 
in  others  of  the  selfish  sentiments.  These  predominan 
states  of  feeling  give  character  to  the  mind,  and  men 
become  enthusiasts  in  art,  in  religion,  and  in  self-ado- 


60  THE   SCIENCE  OF   KHETORIC 

ration.     These  established  states  of  feeling  arc  the  gov- 
erning motives  in  life.     To  change  them  when  deeply 
rooted,  is  difficult,  if  not  impossible.     The  more  nat- 
nral  rhetorical  use  of  them  is,  to  treat  them  as  laws  o/ 
action,  and  to  address  new  ideas  to  them  in  such  a  man 
ner  as  to  deflect  the  course  of  action,  without  attempt- 
ing to  change  the  dominant  feelings.      One  class  oi 
writers  and  speakers  are  specially  called  upon  to  modify 
these  permanent  states.     Ministers  of  the  Gospel  aim 
to  change  the  established  sentiments  as  well  as  the  con 
victions  of  men.     This  most  difficult  task  requires  su 
perior  and  peculiar  qualifications.     Khetoric  alone  is 
here  an  inadequate  help.     Power  must  be  sought  from 
more  spiritual  sources. 

3.  Temporary  Emotions. 

There  are,  however,  certain  temporary  states  of 
feeling  which  may  be  modified,  and  whose  modifica- 
tion depends  upon  established  rhetorical  principles. 
Fear,  anger,  gratitude,  admiration,  and  their  like,  are 
all  capable  of  modification,  as  regards  any  given  object. 
The  modes  of  modification  are  two. 

(1)  Allaying  the  Feelings.— A  feeling  may  be 

allayed  by  the  representation  of  the  object  in  an  as- 
pect which  does  not  tend  to  arouse  the  unfavorable 
emotion.  As  soon  as  the  aspect  of  the  object  exciting 
the  emotion  is  banished  from  the  consciousness,  and  a 
new  aspect  is  presented  tending  to  excite  a  different 
emotion,  the  first  emotion  will  be  allayed.  This  is  a 
far  more  successful  expedient  than  the  attempt  to  sup- 
press all  emotion.  Feeling,  once  excited,  may  be 
readily  changed  to  the  most  opposite  extremes,  as  from 
laughter  to  tears,  but  the  absolute  and  instantaneous 


LAWS   OF   MINI).  61 

suppression  of  any  emotion  is  impossible.  Like  a  flow- 
ing river,  it  may  be  turned  into  new  channels,  but  it 
cannot  be  suddenly  checked.  A  character  in  a  story 
may  call  forth  the  contempt  of  the  reader  by  an  un- 
worthy act.  This  feeling  of  contempt  may  be  allayed 
by  presenting  a  noble  motive  as  the  prompter  of  the 
act,  so  that,  although  admiration  may  not  be  engen- 
dered, the  contempt  may  be  neutralized'^  the  nobility 
of  the  motive. 

(2)  Diverting  the  Peelings. — If  the  feeling  can- 
not be  allayed,  it  may  be  diverted  from  the  object 
which  called  it  forth.  For  example,  a  man  is  shown 
to  be  guilty  of  an  infamous  deed,  and  excites  our  con- 
demnation and  disgust.  It  may  not  be  easy  or  even 
possible  to  transmute  this  feeling  into  one  of  a  differ- 
ent character.  The  remaining  expedient  is,  to  direct 
this  feeling  against  a  different  object,  by  showing  that 
another  person  has  really  planned  and  forwarded  the 
transaction,  and  that  the  accused  is  the  dupe  of  an- 
other's criminality. 


THE    PARTICULAR    LAWS    OF    MIND. 

IN  the  preceding  chapter  we  have  considered  the 
universal  principles  of  the  human  mind  in  its  two 
modes  of  action,  thought  and  feeling.  The  laws  of 
mind  would  not  be  completely  outlined,  if  we  were  to 
neglect  those  particular  principles  which  grow  out  of 
the  conditions  of  life.  Age,  position,  education,  busi- 
ness, even  climate  and  government,  affect  the  thoughts 
and  feelings  of  men  in  ways  with  which  the  rhetorician 
should  be  familiar.  Men  are  so  modified  by  their 
circumstances,  that  they  must  be  studied  in  their  en- 
vironment, in  order  to  be  understood  and  influenced. 

A  large  portion  of  what,  on  general  principles, 
should  be  esteemed  true  eloquence,  falls  impotent  to 
the  ground  for  want  of  special  adaptation.  The  law- 
yer, the  preacher,  and  the  lecturer  must  study  mi- 
nutely the  habits  of  thought  and  modes  of  feeling  of 
the  classes  addressed.  The  purely  literary  man,  who 
writes  for  the  world  and  for  all  time,  may  not  attend 
so  closely  to  the  modifications  of  human  character, 
but  those  who  address  a  particular  class  should  adapt 
their  ideas  to  its  peculiar  powers  of  reception  and  as- 
similation.  Wo  can  here  present  only  three  of  the 
most  important  causes  of  peculiarity — (1)  AGE,  (2)  EX- 
PERIENCE, and  (3)  AFFILIATION.  Others  may  be  equal- 
ly worthy  of  study. 


LAWS   OF   MIND.  63 

SECTION  1 

AGE. 

Aristotle,  in  his  "  Rhetoric,"  devote*  three  chapters 
to  the  habits  and  passions  of  men  at  different  periods 
of  life.  A  practical  difficulty  in  the  treatment  of  such 
a  subject  is  the  impossibility  of  fixing  with  exactness 
the  lines  of  demarcation  between  the  different  periods. 
Life  is  not  a  chain  formed  of  separate  links,  but  a 
stream  which  flows  on  without  a  break  of  its  contin- 
uity. A  difficulty  equally  great  is  the  wide  diversity 
of  personal  temperament.  Dividing  life  into  Youth, 
Old  Age,  and  Middle  Age,  Aristotle  enumerates  the 
distinctive  qualities  of  each.  . 

1.  Youth. 

(1)  Passionat©. — The  young  are  prompted  by  strong 
desires,   and   are    ready  to    dare  all  for    their  grati- 
fication.    Their  fresh  and  vigorous  life  is  impatient  of 
restraint,  prone  to  change,   and  fastidious  as  to  the 
objects  of  desire.     Their  desires  though  strong  are  in- 
constant, like  the  hunger  and  thirst  of  the  sick.     They 
follow  impulse  rather  than  reason.     Anger  and  pride 
are  dominant  motives,   and   ambition  leads   them  to 
deeds  of  rashness,  and  spurs  them  with  the  desire  of 
victory  rather  than  of  gain,  for  they  have  known  little 
of  want. 

(2)  Sanguine. — They  usually  hope  for  the   best, 
*rom  having  had    few    disappointments,   and  believe 
in  the  good,  from  having  had  little  experience  with 
depravity.     They  are  credulous  from  their  instinctive 
love  of  truth,  and  from  having  seldom  been  subject  to 
aerious  deception.     They  expect  much  of  the  future, 


54:  THE   SCIENCE   OF   KHETORIC. 

from  never  having  known  repulse.  They  live  in  hop« 
because  they  cannot  dwell  much  in  memory.  Hence 
they  are  subject  to  impositions  from  their  extravagant 
expectations. 

(3)  Spirited. — They  are  spirited,  for  they  have  not 
yet   been  humbled   by  defeat,   and   have  not  known 
pressing  circumstances.     They,  therefore,  think  more 
of  honor  than  of  expediency,  for  they  are  governed  by 
the  impulses  of   the.  heart  rather  than  by  the  calcula- 
tions of  the  brain. 

(4)  Social. — Their  confidence  in  men  and  their  ex- 
uberance of  spirit  lead  them  to  companionship,  ami 
they  delight  in  the  amenities  of   social  intercourse. 
They  choose  their  companions  from  personal  affinity, 
not  from  social  expediency. 

(5)  Mischievous. — In    their    transgressions     they 
err  on  the  side  of  mischief  rather  than  of  malice. 
Their  actions  are  often  wanton,  but  seldom  intention- 
ally injurious.     Repentance  is  easy,  as  the  enor  does 
not  proceed  from  established  principles  of  action. 

2.  Old  Age. 

(1)  Calculating, — In  almost  every  particular,  the 
old  are  the  reverse  of  the  young.     Passion  has  lost 
its  power,  and  calculation  has  become  the  rule  of  life. 
Caution  marks  every  step.     Impulse  has  given  way  to 
reason. 

(2)  Desponding, — They  are  slow  to  assert  anything 
or  to  receive  any  new  doctrine,  always  qualifying  witL 
"perhaps"  or    "possibly."     They   are   suspicious   of 
general  statements,  since  experience  has  shown  many 
exceptions  to  general  rules.     They  distrust  men  and 
theories  on  the  same  ground.     They  are  apprehensive 


LAWS   OF  MIKD.  65 

of  danger  and  difficulty  from  long  experience  of  their 
prevalence  and  unexpected  approach.  They  live  in 
memory  more  than  in  hope. 

(3)  Humble, — Disappointment  and  deception  have 
generally  lowered  their  estimate  of   the  world.    The 
loss  of  power   tends   to   lower  their  former  ideas  of 
life.     They  rely  more  upon  careful  calculation  arid  the 
policy  of  expediency  than  upon  the  certain  supremacy 
of  right  and  the  victory  of  honor. 

(4)  Gentle. — If  the  old  are  injurious  it  is  not  from 
mischief,  but  from  calculation.     Yet  they  are  seldom 
injurious  either  in  word  or  deed,  having  learned  to 
subordinate  impulse  to  reason,  and  having  perceived 
the  uselessness  of  retaliation. 

3.  Middle  Age. 

(1)  Moderate. — The  prime  of  life  presents  the 
golden  mean  between  the  two  extremes  of  mental 
character  already  sketched.  Moderation,  mental  bal- 
ance, deliberation  joined  with  action  are  the  qualities 
of  man  at  the  middle  period  of  life.  Passion  has  been 
modified  by  reason,  without  having  deprived  him  of 
enthusiasm  and  interest  in  the  temporary  ends  of  ex- 
istence. Honor  and  expediency  cooperate.  Caution 
and  daring  are  blended.  Neither  the  extravagance  of 
youth  nor  the  parsimony  of  old  age  is  predominant. 

(2)  Power. — The  middle  period  in  life  is  that  in 
which  the  capa-city  and  desire  for  power  are  at  their 
neight.  The  diffidence  of  youth  has  departed,  and 
the  weakness  of  old  age  has  not  supervened.  Exercise 
of  the  faculties  has  imparted  vigor  and  precision  to 
their  operations,  and  over-use  has  not  impaired  their 
activity. 


06  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

Although  subject  to  great  individual  modification, 
these  differences  of  disposition  should  be  known  and 
remembered  by  the  rhetorician,  as  they  affect  the 
reception  of  new  ideas. 

SECTION  II. 
EXPERIENCE. 

Another  class  of  particular  conditions  which  should 
be  studied  by  the  rhetorician  may  be  designated  by  the 
general  name  Experience.  This  is  meant  to  include 
such  personal  preparation  as  education,  occupation, 
political  privilege,  and  general  familiarity  with  the 
subject  discussed. 

1.  The  Nature  of  Experience. 

A  very  frequent  but  absurd  mistake  is,  to  confound 
experience  with  age,  or  some  other  non-essential  but 
usual  concomitant  of  experience.  Political  wisdom  is 
often  supposed  to  be  associated  with  years,  and  a  youth 
of  wide  historical  knowledge,  familiar  with  the  causes 
and  signs  of  national  growth  and  decay,  is  supposed 
to  know  less  of  government  than  an  ignorant  voter 
of  many  years  standing.  Nothing  can  be  more  distinct 
than  age  and  experience.  There  is  no  necessary  bond 
of  connection  between  them,  though,  it  is  true,  they 
are  often  associated.  Experience  in  a  particular  de- 
partment of  knowledge  depends  upon  the  amount  of 
time  and  attention  bestowed  upon  the  subject  with  a 
given  amount  of  intelligence.  The  factors  o!  ex  peri- 
once  are  three  :  time,  attention,  intelligence.  A  neg- 
lect to  remember  that  experience  is  the  product  of 
these  three  factors  often  leads  to  a  fatal  misapprehen- 
sion of  individual  capacity. 


LAWS  OF  MIND.  67 

2.  General  and  Specific  Experiences. 

Another  prevalent  error  is  the  confounding  of  a 
general  and  a  particular  experience.  A  man  may  have 
a  long  experimental  knowledge  of  religion  without  the 
ahility  to  reason  about  even  the  fundamental  doctrines 
of  his  faith.  His  experience  may  have  been  in  the 
practice  of  religious  precepts,  whereas  the  experience 
required  is  in  the  discussion  of  doctrinal  truths.  For 
this  special  purpose  a  practical  knowledge  of  religion 
would  be  an  inadequate  preparation.  Whately  cites 
an  instance  of  a  grain  merchant  in  Holland  who  had 
spent  a  large  part  of  his  life  dealing  in  corn,  but  who 
had  never  seen  it  growing  in  the  field.  His  genera, 
experience  with  corn  was  extensive,  but  his  opinion 
would  be  valueless  with  reference  to  the  best  modes  OL 
producing  it. 

3.  Inferred  Experience. 

Another  mistake  is  often  made  by  persons  who  sup- 
pose their  experience  to  extend  farther  than  it  does, 
and  this  error  often  needs  to  be  pointed  out  before 
their  opinions  can  be  changed.  It  consists  in  regard- 
ing the  causes  as  coming  within  the  scope  of  experi- 
ence, when  only  certain  effects  have  been  perceived. 
If  a  person  were  to  take  a  medicine  and  soon  afterward 
were  to  recover  from  his  disease,  he  would  possibly  be- 
lieve  himself  to  have  experimental  knowledge  that  he 
was  cured  by  that  remedy.  This  would,  however,  im 
ply  a  tracing  of  causes  and  effects  which  is  not  always 
possible.  He  might  infer  that  the  remedy  effected  the 
cmre,  but  experience  would  justify  him  in  affirming  only 
that  he  took  the  medicine,  and  the  disease  was  cured. 
The  connection  between  the  taking  of  the  remedy  and 


68  THE   SCIENCE   OF    RHETORIC. 

the  cure  is  one  of  inference,  and  not  of  experience, 
since  other  causes  might  have  produced  the  effect.  In 
offering  to  the  mind  a  new  theory  to  account  for  facts 
of  experience,  it  will  often  be  necessary  to  show  that 
what  has  been  taken  for  experience  is  not  experience 
but  inference. 

SECTION  III. 
AFFILIATION. 

...  Relation  of  the  Speaker  to  his  Audience. 

Men  possess  different  degrees  of  influence  according 
to  their  relations  with  those  addressed.  Aristotle  has 
mentioned  three  essentials  to  one  who  would  persuade 
his  fellows  :  (1)  good  sense;  (2)  goodwill;  and  (3) 
good  principles. 

(1)  Good  Sense, — Men  are  willingly  led  by  those  in 
whose  judgment  they  have  full  confidence.     A  reputa- 
tion for  good  sense  is,  therefore,  of  value  to  one  who 
would  produce  mental  changes  in  another.     The  ma- 
jority of  men  esteem  others  for  their  good  sense  in  pro- 
portion as  they  hold  similar  views.     It  is  of  great  prac- 
tical importance,  therefore,  to  agree  as  far  as  possible 
with  those  whom  we  would  influence.     Happily  there 
are  many  facts  and  doctrines  upon  which  all  men  agree. 
An  allusion  to  some  of  these  points  of  agreement  brings 
the  speaker  into  a  closer  relation  of  influence  than  if, 
these  being  kept  out  of  view,  nothing  but  differences 
should  be  advanced. 

(2)  Good  Will. — If   one   were   possessed  of  good 
sense  and  good  principles,  it  would  seem  as  if  good 
will  would   scarcely  need   to  be  added,  since   ability 
would  insure  a  clear  apprehension  of  truth,  and  in  teg 


LAWS   OF   MIXD.  6V 

rity  would  lead  one  to  a  candid  statement  of  convic 
tians.  But;  while  one  might  on  these  grounds  be  sup- 
posed to  have  at  heart  the  besb  interests  of  those  ad- 
dressed as  he  viewed  them,  if  he  were  hostile  to  theii 
cherished  opinions.,  he  would  have  comparatively  little 
influence  with  the  prepossessed.  Hence  Aristotle  had 
good  reason  for  mentioning  this  quality. 

(3)  Good  Principle. — A  character  for  good  sense 
and  good  will  might  seem  sufficient  qualification  for  a 
speaker  or  writer,  since  the  former  quality  would  imply 
the  ability  and  the  latter  the  disposition  to  give  the 
best  advice,  without  reference  to  moral  principle. 
Aristotle  maintains  that  a  reputation  for  integrity  is 
equally  necessary,  for,  although  a  man  cannot  be  want- 
ing in  good  will  toward  himself,  yet  able  men  often  act 
absurdly  in  their  own  affairs,  being  so  blinded  by  pas- 
sion as  to  sacrifice  the  expedient  for  the  agreeable. 
Such  men  are  not  likely  to  be  better  counselors  of 
others  than  of  themselves. 

2.   Party  Spirit. 

Many  of  the  affiliations  of  life,  such  as  family  feel- 
ing, patriotism,  religious  belief,  political  partiality,  and 
the  various  forms  of  caste,  may  be  summed  up  under 
the  general  name  party  spirit.  Among  the  means  of 
winning  or  moving  men,  no  one  is  more  potent.  It 
may  be  noticed  in  some  of  its  special  relations. 

(1)  As  a  Motive. — Scarcely  any  other  motive  is  so 
potent  when  it  is  skillfully  presented,  and  yet  it  is  one 
from  which  few  avowedly  act.  Its  gratification  affords 
a  high  degree  of  pleasure,  and  its  defeat  is  intensely 
humiliating.  While  it  often  leads  to  violence  and  the 
most  absurd  conduct,  it  is  the  esprit  de  coiys  without 


70  THE  SCIENCE   OF   RHETOBIC. 

which  there  could  be  no  unity  of  action  in  the  organi- 
zations of  men. 

(2)  As  a  Means  of  Self-commendation.— When 
indirectly  appealed  to,  it  is  an  almost  infallible  means 
of  self-commendation.     To  belong  to  the  same  church, 
political  party,  or  secret  society,  is  with  many  men,  a 
sign  of  intelligence,  good  will  and  integrity.     Hence 
the  speaker  or  writer  who  represents  himself  as  belong- 
ing to  a  certain  order  of  men  at  once  gains  for  himself 
the  credit  or  discredit  attaching  to  that  order  in  the 
estimation  of  those  addressed.     A  speaker  cannot  say 
without  embarrassment,  "I  am  an  honest  and  intelli- 
gent man  ;"  but  he  may  say  without  the  slightest  in- 
delicacy, "lamaKepublican,"  or  "  I  am  a  Democrat." 
Such  a  statement  often  secures  for  a  speaker  the  sym- 
pathetic attention  of  his  audience,  and  banishes  at  once 
all  suspicion. 

(3)  Method  of  Counteracting.— It  is  often  neces- 
sary to  oppose  and  change  men's  party  attachments. 
This  process  is  very  difficult.     It  will  be  more  likely  to 
succeed  if  the  speaker  give  full  credit  for  any  correct 
doctrines  held  by  those  whom  he  would  change,  affirm 
his  confidence  in   their  good    intentions,  present   as 
many  points  of  agreement  as  possible,  and  finally  show 
that  through  too  close  attention  to  some  truths  they 
have  lost  sight  of  others  which  change  the  whole  case. 
Any  display  of  hostility,  criminations,  or  charges  of 
stupidity,  will  only  confirm   men  in  their  previous 
views. 


BOOK    II. 


LAWS    OF    IDEA 


BOOK  II.— LAWS  OF  IDEA. 
1.  Kinds  of  Ideas. 

A  second  class  of  conditions  to  be  studied  by  the 
rhetorician  are  determined  by  the  nature  of  the  idea  to 
be  communicated.  All  our  ideas  may  be  distributed 
under  two  heads  :  (1)  ideas  of  individual  objects  ;  and 
(2)  general  notions. 

(1)  Individual  Objects. — Our   first   knowledge   i& 
of    individuals — particular   trees,    particular    flowers, 
particular  men.     These  individual  ideas  are  presented 
to  us  in  two  ways.     We  know  some  objects  as  siimilta 
neous  wholes,  whose  parts  are  co-existent ;  as  a  rose,  a 
landscape,  a  house.     Other  ideas  are  successive  wholes, 
whose  parts  do  not  co-exist,  but  follow  one  another  in 
time  ;  a  storm,  a  shipwreck,  a  journey.    In  other  words, 
some  of  our  ideas  relate  to  objects  in  space,  others  to 
events  in  time. 

(2)  General  Notions. — By  abstraction  .and  general 
ization  we  derive  general  notions  from  particular  ideas 
Thus  we  are  able  to  think  of  house,  animal,  mountain, 
without  thinking  of  any  particular  object.     Such   a 
notion  is  expressed  by  a  common  term,  which  applies 
equally  well  to  any  individual  of  the  class.     One  gen- 
eral notion  may  be  affirmed  of  another,   as  when  we 
predicate  whiteness  of  an  animal,  and  say,  The  animal 
is  ivhite.     This  act  is  a  judgment,  and  is  expressed  by 
a  proposition 

^  2.  Divisions  of  this  Subject. 

All  our  ideas  may  be  referred  to  one  of  these  four 
classes.     If  then  we  discover  the  laws  of  these  four 
4 


74  THE  SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

c-lementary  forms  of  discourse,  we  shall  cover  the  whole 
ground  of  the  conditions  of  communication  depending 
upon  the  nature  of  the  idea.  These  four  classes  of 
ideas  give  rise  to  four  different  processes  of  communi- 
cation : 

(1)  The  parts  of  a  simultaneous  whole  are  presented 
to  the  mind  hy  Description. 

(2)  The  parts  of  a  successive  whole  are  presented  to 
the  mind  by  Narration. 

(3)  A  general  notion  is  unfolded  to  the  mind  by 
Exposition. 

(4)  A  proposition   is  confirmed   to  the  mind  by 
Argumentation. 


DESCRIPTION. 

1.  Describable  Objects. 

Complex  objects  only  are  capable  of  description* 
A  simple  object,  as  for  instance  the  color  blue,  cannot 
be  described.  We  may  give  instances  of  it,  but  one 
who  had  never  seen  any  blue  object  could  never  learn 
from  description  what  blue  is.  In  order  that  anything 
may  be  capable  of  description,  it  must  consist  of  parts 
which  may  be  mentioned,  and  whose  relations  may  be 
shown. 

2.  General  Laws  of  Description. 

There  are  some  general  qualities  which  every  de- 
scription should  possess. 

(1)  The  Law  of  Purpose.— Whenever  we  describe 
anything,  we  do  so  with  a  definite  end  in  view.     Let 
the  subject  be  the  United  States.     We  might  describe 
the  United  States  for  a  geographical  purpose,  to  inform 
the  mind  how  the  parts  of  the  country  are  related  in 
direction  and  distance  ;  for  an  antiquarian  purpose,  to 
portray  the  condition  of  aboriginal  tribes  ;  for  a  geo- 
logical purpose,  to  illustrate  the  operation  of  physical 
forces  ;  for  a  political  purpose,  to  demonstrate  the  ne- 
cessity of  national  unity  in  so  vast  a  country.     Our 
selection  of  circumstances  should  be  governed  entirely 
by  the  purpose  of  the  description. 

(2)  The  Law  of  Unity. — The  mere  enumeration  of 


76  THE  SCIENCE  OF   RHETORIC. 

qualities  is  not  sufficient  for  a  perfect  description. 
There  must  be  coherence  between  the  parts  enumera- 
ted, n  mutual  dependence  and  correlation.  Hence  the 
necessity  of  proceeding  according  to  some  definite  plan. 
(3)  The  Law  of  Completeness.— It  is  necessary  that 
nothing  important  to  the  purpose  be  left  out  of  the  list 
of  qualities.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  all  the  con- 
stituents of  an  object  must  be  mentioned.  The  pur- 
pose regulates  this.  A  description  of  the  United 
States  which  should  leave  out  the  great  rivers  might 
be  proper  for  some  purposes,  but  for  industrial  pur- 
poses such  a  description  would  be  worthless. 

.  (4)  The  Law  of  Brevity.— The  memory  is  soon 
overpowered  by  details.  Hence  a  description  should 
avoid  all  useless  minutiae,  and  even  leading  character- 
istics which  are  irrelevant  to  the  purpose.  Vivacity  is 
gained  by  this  elimination,  and  the  attention  is  more 
easily  retained. 

3.   Kinds  of  Description. 

It  will  be  convenient  to  distinguish  three  kinds  of 
description,  which,  from  their  peculiarities,  should  be 
treated  separately.  They  are  description  of  (1)  OBJECTS 

OF  SENSE  ;  (2)  MENTAL  STATES  ;    (3)  CHARACTERS. 

SECTION  I. 

OBJECTS  OF  SENSE. 
1.  Purpose. 

(1)  Point  of  View. — The  purpose  for  which  we  de- 
scribe an  object  should  determine  our  point  of  view. 
This  should  be  settled  in  the  beginning.  A  description 


LAWS  OF   IDEA.  77 

v 

of  the  United  States  for  a  class  in  geography  might 
make  the  actual  position  of  the  class  the  point  of  view, 
and  proceed  outward  in  straight  lines  or  concentric 
circles.  If  we  were  describing  the  peculiarities  of  the 
country  to  a  foreigner,  we  might  select  his  entrance 
into  an  American  harbor  as  the  point  of  view,  and 
then  conduct  him  into  the  interior  and  across  the 
continent.  The  point  of  view  should  not  be  shifted 
without  warning. 

(2)  Division. — Complex  objects  require  systematic 
division,  in  order  to  be  understood  as  a  whole.  The 
kind  of  division  depends  upon  the  purpose,  taken  in 
connection  with  the  character  of  the  object.  A  de- 
scription of  the  earth's  surface  for  a  political  purpose, 
divides  according  to  national  boundaries  ;  for  a  meteor- 
ological purpose,  according  to  zones  ;  for  a  purely  geo- 
graphical purpose,  according  to  continents. 

2   Unity. 

(1)  Order. — Although  a  proper  division  is  helpful 
TO  unity  as  well  a$  important  in  its  relation  to  purpose, 
the  order  in  wl/ich  the  parts  are  considered  is  still 
more  essential.  /  The  order  will  depend  also  upon  the 
purpose  of  the  description,  but  must  be  chosen  chiefly 
with  regard  to  unity.  If  a  central  and  causative  prin- 
ciple can  be  found,  it  will  assist  unity  to  follow  the 
operation  of  this.  Thus,  in  describing  the  climates  of 
the  earth,  it  would  be  best  to  follow  the  apparent 
movements  of  the  sun,  beginning  at  the  equator.  An- 
other means  of  securing  unity  is  to  follow  the  order  of 
actual  perception.  In  describing  a  distant  mountain, 
for  instance,  unity  would  be  promoted  by  mentioning 
the  various  phases  of  its  appearance  in  the  order  in 


78  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

which    they   would    occur   to   one   approaching    the 
mountain. 

(2)  Fitness. — It  is  conducive  to  unity  to  hold  con- 
stantly in  mind  the  exact  purpose  of  the  description, 
as  particulars  are  suggested,  and  to  decide  upon  their 
fitness  for  the  end  in  view. 

3.  Completeness. 

(1)  Location. — One  of  the  common  violations  of 
the  law  of  completeness  is  the  omission  to  fix  the  place 
of  the  object  described.     A  description  of  any  thing 
ought  to  be  introduced  by  information  about  the  place 
where  it  is  found.     This  is  especially  the  case  when 
the  object  is  local. 

(2)  Inner  Qualities. — A  description  of  an   animal 
would  be  imperfect  without  some  account  of  its  in- 
stincts and  habits.     The  mere  external  form  and  size 
are  the  least  interesting  facts  with  regard  to  animals. 
Their  sagacity,  their  modes  of  life,  and  their  disposi- 
tion toward  man  are  essential  to  any  complete  account 
of  them. 

(3)  Time. — Every   thing  in   nature  is  subject  to 
change.     A  description   is,    therefore,   unsatisfactory 
unless  the  time  of  the  observation  be  given.     We  should 
know  whether  a  plant  or  animal  was  young  or  old  when 
the  observer  saw  it.     Even  the  posture,  the  time  of 
day,  the  antecedent  circumstances  may  be  important. 
Travelers  have  variously  described  the  chameleon,  for 
its  hue  depends  upon  its  own  mood,  the  color  of  the 
objects  about  it,  and    even   the   temperature.     In   a 
certain  sense  all   nature  shares    the    qualities  of  this 
reptile. 

(4)  Magnitude. — Misconception  is  likely  to  result 


LAWS  OF  IDEA.  79 

fron.  a  failure  to  note  the  magnitude  of  an  object. 
When  the  size  is  unknown  from  obvious  relations,  it 
should  always  be  in  some  way  stated. 

4.  Brevity. 

(1)  Comparisons. — Among  the   various   means  of 
complying  with  the  law  of  brevity,  comparison  is  use- 
ful.    A  happy  simile   or  metaphor  often  presents  a 
somewhat  complex  object  in  a   single   word.     Novel 
views  of  familiar  objects  are  thus  brought  to  mind,  and 
by  stimulating  the  attention  are  helpful  to  the  descrip- 
tion.    An    American  poet    thus   describes    the    sea- 
shore : — 

"  The  curved  strand 
Of  cool  gray  sand 
Lies  like  a  sickle  by  the  sea." 

(2)  Effects. — Another  means  of  shortening  the  de- 
scription is  to  describe  the  effect  upon  the  mind,  and 
leave  the  fancy  to  fill  out  the  picture. 

(3)  Contrast. — Some  objects  may  be  described  by 
contrasting  them  with  well  known  opposites.     This  is 
generally  productive  of  brevity,  but  care  is  necessary 
to  avoid  obscurity.     We  cannot  always  determine  what 
an  object  is  like  from  a  knowledge  of  what  it  is  not 
like. 

(4)  Fixed    Classes- — Many   objects  may  be  suffi- 
ciently  described   by   being  referred  to  certain  fixed 
classes.     The  botanist,    for  example,    needs  only    tlir 
genus  and  species  of  a  plant  in  order  to  know  its  ch.-tr 
acter.     Only  the  leading  characteristics  of  a  mini"1 
are  necessary  to  describe  it  for  a  mineralogist. 
however,  is  properly  classification,  rather  than  descrip- 
tion in  its  common  sense. 


80  THE   SCIEKCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

SECTION  II. 
MENTAL  STATES. 

In  the  strictest  sense  mental  states  cannot  be  de- 
scribed. Unless  similar  states  have  been  experienced 
by  the  mind  addressed,  they  can  .be  communicated  only 
by  indirect  means,  and  even  then  with  doubtful  pre- 
cision. The  modes  of  communicating  states  of  mind 
are  two  :  (1)  by  the  mental  vocabulary  ;  and  (2)  by  va- 
rious associations.  In  the  expression  "  mental  states" 
we  include  only  the  subjective  modes  of  consciousness, 
and  not  the  consciousness  of  external  objects. 

1.  The  Mental  Vocabulary. 

The  words  used  to  designate  states  of  feeling  and 
the  various  powers  of  the  mind  are  not  in  any  true 
sense  descriptive.  They  are  symbolical  signs  associated 
with  certain  phenomena  which  they  serve  rudely  to  in- 
dicate. The  chances  of  mistake  in  their  interpretation 
are,  therefore,  very  great.  Hence  the  difficulty  and 
seeming  vagueness  of  metaphysical  systems.  Several 
peculiarities  of  the  mental  vocabulary  need  special 
attention. 

(1)  Metaphorical  Character.— All  the  radical  ele- 
ments of  language  are  significant  of  jiurely  physical 
substances,  qualities,  acts,  and  relations.  Such  words 
.as  perception)  imagination  and  feeling  are  derived  from 
radicals  primarily  significant  of  material  things.  If. 
we  forget  the  metaphorical  character  of  all  higher 
speech,  we  shall  be  continually  led  into  the  error  of 
supposing  that  there  is  an  essential  likeness  between 
mental  processes  and  physical  acts.  That  there  is  an 


LAWS   OF   IDEA.  81 

analogy  there  can  be  no  doubt,  and  in  some  instances, 
possibly,  a  direct  resemblance.  But  we  are  not  at 
liberty  to  suppose  that  mental  and  physical  phe- 
nomena correspond  throughout. 

(2)  Indefiniteness, — From  this  want  of  correspond- 
ence between  internal  states  and  external  phenomena, 
the  language  of  the  mind  is  often  indefinite.     When 
we  speak  of  a  mountain,   a  river,  or  a  tree,  distinct 
notions  rise  in  the  mind  ;  but  when  we  speak  of  love, 
joy,  anger,  and  other  states  of  feeling,  an  apprehension 
of  what  is  meant  implies  a  personal  experience  of  these 
states.     The  indefiniteness  of  language  is  increased  by 
the  individual  modification  to  which  all  these  states  are 
subject.     Thus  love  may  mean  widely  different  things 
to  different  persons,  according  to  their  temperament 
and  extent  of  experience.     Joy,  too,  may  be  either  a 
calm,  tranquil  quiescence,   or  a  tumultuous   delight. 
Anger  may  mean  to  one  a  petty  irritation,  to  another, 
a   righteous   indignation   in  which   the   whole   moral 
nature  is  profoundly  agitated. 

(3)  Subjective  Result, — The  effect  of  language  de- 
scriptive of  the  feelings  upon   the  mind  addressed, 
therefore,  depends  upon  an  infinite  number  of  incal- 
culable circumstances.     The  attempt  to  communicate 
the  feelings  and  other  complex  mental  states  by  the 
ordinary  vocabulary  of  the  mind,  is  almost  certain  to 
prove  unsuccessful.     The  simpler  and  more  common 
states  of  feeling  may  be  thus  reproduced  in  another  or 
tolerably  well  suggested  by  the  use   of  their  proper 
names  ;   but  as  soon  as  the  phenomenon  becomes  ex- 
ceptional, as  in  the  finer  shades  of  emotion,  the  exact 
communication  of  it  in  this  way  becomes  almost  im 
possible. 

4* 


82  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 


2.  Various  Associations. 

What  cannot  be  done  successfully  by  the  ordinary 
vocabulary  may  often  be  easily  accomplished  by  vari- 
ous concomitants-.  Some  of  these  may  be  noticed. 

(1)  External  Expression, — There  is  a  natural  lan- 
guage of  the  body  which  is  universal  among  men,  and 
founded  on  laws  of  muscular  and  nervous  action.     The 
leading  emotions  of  the  mind  have  their  characteristic 
modes  of  expression  in  the  tones  of  the  voice,  the  color 
of  the  face,  and  the  gesticulations  of  the  body.     Love, 
joy,  anger,  pain,  and  pleasure,  have  each  an  external 
sign  which  is   seldom   mistaken.     In   describing  the 
feelings,  this  language  may  be  joined  with  the  proper 
mental  vocabulary  to  enforce  expression.     A  descrip- 
tion of  the  external  accompaniment  of  an  emotion  is 
often  the   best  possible  description  of  the  emotion 
itself. 

(2)  Actions. — Closely  allied  to  the  bodily  expres- 
sion, is  the  conduct  produced  by  mental  states.     The 
habits  of  men  are  regulated  by  their  feelings.     The 
worship  of  art  or  literature  springs  from  a  devotion  of 
soul  which  none  but  devotees  can  fully  comprehend  by 
any  direct  description  ;  but  aliform  some  notion  of  the 
intensity  of  this  feeling  when  the  humiliation,  pain, 
and  depression  endured  for  its  sake  are  minutely  do- 
scribed.     In  one  of  his  tales,  Crabbe  very  successfully 
describes  the  state  of  an  unfortunate  girl  by  naming 
ner  favorite  occupations.     The   question,    how   must 
one  feel  to  select  these  pursuits?  leads  the  inquirer 
with  great  exactness  to  the  proper  state  of  mind. 

(3)  Surroundings. — The  surroundings  have  much 
to  do  with  our  feelings.     We  are  impressed  by  the 


LAWS   OF  IDEA,  81 

scenery,  the  companionship,  and  the  probable  occur- 
rences. It  may,  therefore,  assist  the  communication 
of  a  feeling,  to  describe  the  circumstances  in  which  it 
was  produced,  and  then  more  directly  state  the  char- 
acter of  the  feeling.  The  external  features  of  the  oc- 
casion will  thus  assist  the  interpretation  of  what  might 
otherwise  be  obscure. 

(4)  Causes. — Since  human  nature  is  governed  by 
general  laws,  men  of  like  dispositions  are  apt  to  feel 
the  same  from  the  same  causes?  Very  often  the  most 
satisfactory  way  to  communicate  an  emotion  is  to  state 
the  causes  of  it.  When  the  emotion  is  unusually  com- 
plex, this  is  often  the  only  way  in  which  the  feeling 
can  be  communicated.  The  various  dispositions  of 
men  render  this  mode  somewhat  uncertain,  since  the 
same  causes  produce  different  effects  in  different  per- 
sons. 

SECTION  III. 
CHARACTER. 

The  character  of  men  is  generally  reflected  in  & 
narrative  of  their  lives,  but,  considered  as  a  complete 
growth,  character  may  be  described.  Several  peculiar- 
ities belong  to  the  description  of  character.  Some  of 
these  may  be  mentioned. 

1.  Individuality. 

Only  marked  characters  are  worth  describing.  The 
distinctive  traits  of  a  man  are  necessary  to  a  successful 
description.  Those  shared  in  common  with  most  men 
of  the  same  class  may  be  sufficiently  indicated  by  re- 
ferring the  character  to  that  class.  The  power  to 


b 


84  THE   SCIENCE   OF   BHETORIC. 

seize  upon  what  is  purely  individual  is  the  secret  of  all 
great  character  painting.  It  was  possessed  pre-emi- 
nently by  Shakespeare.  His  female  characters  are 
very  numerous,  and  generally  among  the  most  exquisite 
creations  in  literature.  "And  these  Shakespearian 
women,"  says  Whipple,  "  though  all  radiations  from 
one  great  ideal  of  womanhood,  are  at  the  same  time  in- 
tensely individualized.  Each  has  a  separate  soul,  and 
the  processes  of  intellect  as  well  as  emotions  are  differ- 
ent in  each."  * 

2.  Inward  Principles. 

Specific  acts  are  important  only  as  suggestive  of 
internal  principles.  These  make  up  the  character. 
External  acts  are  helpful  to  the  portraiture  of  charac- 
ter, but  this  carries  us  beyond  the  region  of  mere  de- 
scription, and  invades  the  territory  of  narration,  in 
which  the  growth  of  character  is  exhibited.  The  pro- 
cess of  investigating  character  should  be  inductive. 
From  isolated  manifestations  we  infer  the  actuating 
motives,  and  thus  arrive  at  the  dominant  qualities  of 
mind  and  heart.  The  description  of  character  should 
be  deductive.  The  ruling  principles  should  be  stated 
first,  and  exemplified  if  necessary  by  illustrative  in- 
stances. Thus  every  item  will  have  the  force  of  a 
confirmation,  instead  of  being  a  mere  datum  from 
which  to  infer  the  principle. 

3.  Concrete  Form. 

No  mere  sum  of  abstractions,  however,  can  truth- 
fully represent  a  character.  "  A  man  is  not  an  abstract 

*  The  Literature  of  the  Age  of  Elizabeth. 


LAWS  OF  IDEA.  85 

passion/'  says  Taine.  "  He  stamps  the  vices  and  vir- 
tues which  he  possesses  with  his  individual  mark 
These  vices  and  virtues  receive,  on  entering  into  him, 
a  bent  and  form  which  they  hare  not  in  others.  No 
one  is  unmixed  sensuality.  Take  a  thousand  sensual- 
ists, and  you  will  find  a  thousand  different  modes  of 
sensuality;  for  there  are  a  thousand  paths,  a  thousand 
circumstances  and  degrees  in  sensuality."  *  Portrait- 
ures of  men  which  represent  them  as  incarnations  of  a 
single  vice  or  virtue  are  evidently  untrue. '  No  man  is 
without  redeeming  virtues,  and  no  man  is  absolutely  free 
from  faults  or  inconsistencies.  Even  an  ideal  character 
should  not  be  perfect,  if  designed  to  represent  any 
possible  human  being. 

4.  Environment. 

A  character  is  a  product,  and  must  be  studied 
in  its  environment.  Apart  from  his  circumstances 
in  life,  a  man  excites  little  genuine  interest.  Vir 
tues  and  vices  are  wonderful  or  common -place,  ac- 
cording to  the  soil  in  which  they  grow.  Piety  is 
an  essential  and  natural  element  in  the  life  of  a  great 
divine,  and  hence  would  be  much  more  striking  in  the 
life  of  a  common  sailor.  Vices  which  would  seem 
natural  to  the  seaman  would  seem  to  be  foul  blots  upon 
the  character  of  the  divine.  Hence  consistency  re- 
quires that  character  be  described  in  connection  with 
its  atmosphere. 

*  English  Literature,  Vol.  L 


NARRATION, 

NARRATION  is  the  presentation  to  the  mind  of  the 
tmvts  of  a  successive  whole.  Its  theme  is  a  series  of 
related  events  occurring  in  time.  Language,  being  it- 
self related  to  time  as  a  succession  of  signs,  is  particu- 
larly adapted  to  narration.  This  form  of  discourse 
presents  three  principal  problems  :  (1)  the  SELECTION 

OF  SUITABLE  CIRCUMSTANCES  ;  (2)  the  REPRESENTA- 
TION OF  EVENTS  IN  THEIR  PROPER  SEQUENCE  ;  and  (3) 
the  REPRESENTATION  OF  SYNCHRONISTIC  EVENTS  SO 

AS  TO  SHOW  THEIR  TRUE  RELATIONS.  These  problems 
will  be  discussed  in  the  following  sections.  No  dis- 
tinction is  necessary  between  real  and  invented  events, 
since  the  aim  of  fiction  is  to  counterfeit  reality. 

SECTION  I. 

THE   SELECTION  OF  CIRCUMSTANCES 
1.  Purpose. 

The  selection  of  circumstances  depends  greatly  on 
the  purpose  for  which  a  narrative  is  composed.  We 
may  give  special  attention  to  the  temporal  element, 
and  so  produce  mere  annals  or  chronicles;  we  may 
relate  the  changes  to  which  any  thing  has  been  sub- 
jected, and  so  narrate  its  history  ;  we  may  explain  the 


LAWS  OF  IDEA.  8? 

causes  which  have  been  operative  in  effecting  those 
changes,  and  so  construct  &  philosophical  history.  We 
may  write  the  history  of  a  country,  England  for  ex- 
ample, to  illustrate  the  progress  of  literature,  science, 
or  civil  institutions.  In  all  these  cases,  our  purpose 
must  govern  our  selection  of  circumstances  from  the 
great  mass  of  facts.  The  same  law  of  purpose  is  of 
equal  authority,  no  matter  what  the  character  of  the 
narrative,  whether  a  nation's  history,  or  a  short 
anecdote. 

2.  Unity. 

We  should  be  influenced  in  the  selection  of  materials 
oy  the  law  of  unity.  This  requires  that  all  the  elements 
of  a  narrative  be  parts  of  a  great  whole,  and  organically 
related  with  one  another.  The  introduction  of  collat- 
eral circumstances  having  no  bearing  upon  the  main 
conception  is  a  violation  of  this  law.  Loose  narrators 
are  prone  to  digress  into  episode,  and  thus  mar  the  ef- 
fect of  their  narrative.  Writers  of  fiction  who  are  paid 
for  the  quantity  of  their  work  are  specially  in  danger 
of  this  gross  fault.  In  following  the  fortunes  of  a  hero, 
we  do  not  need  to  be  told  of  the  personal  habits  of  his 
distant  relatives.  This  prohibition  of  unrelated  details 
ought  not  to  be  understood  as  a  condemnation  of  ap- 
propriate details  on  the  ground  of  their  individual  in^ 
significance.  The  minutest  particulars,  if  they  have  a 
direct  bearing,  are  often  the  most  significant  and  indis- 
pensable. 

3.  Completeness. 

-  Sufficient  fullness  to  maintain  the  interest  and  to 
explain  important  occurrences,  is  necessary  to  a  suc- 
cessful narrative.  Few  minds  are  interested  in  mere 


88  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

compends  and  abstracts.  Specific  details  fix  the  atten- 
tion and  fasten  events  ir.  the  memory.  A  narrative  has 
an  artificial  appearance  if  each  event  be  not  explained 
by  the  preceding  events.  The  omission  of  details  ia 
therefore  injurious  to  the  effect,  when  they  are  vitally 
connected  with  the  succession  of  incidents.  No  history 
is  complete  without  occasional  references  to  contempo- 
raneous facts  in  other  departments.  A  history  of 
literature  which  should  take  no  notice  of  those  social 
and  political  revolutions  which  produce  great  men  and 
generate  epoch-making  ideas,  would  be  unworthy  of 
being  called  a  history. 

4.  Brevity. 

Prolixity  is  the  bane  ol  effective  narrative.  Novels 
in  two  or  three  thick  volumes,  recounting  the  insipid 
adventures  of  some  common-place  personage,  are  the 
most  tedious  of  literary  creations.  Histories  which 
spin  out  the  thread  of  events  to  undue  length,  though 
often  praised  and  quoted,  are  seldom  consecutively 
read.  The  memory  can  retain  only  a  limited  number 
of  details,  and  narratives  constructed  without  refer- 
ence to  the  natural  limits  of  this  faculty,  are  almost 
sure  to  pay  the  penalty  of  dullness.  Vivacity,  also,  as 
in  description,  is  secured  by  confining  the  narrative  to 
what  is  essential. 

SECTION   II. 
THE  SEQUENCE  OF  EVENTS. 

1.  Time. 

It  is  important  to  a  narrative  that  its  incidents  bo 
related  in  the  chronological  order  in  which  they  occur. 


LAWS  OP  IDEA.  89 

This  is  usually  the  philosophical  order,  for  events  arc 
not  mere  isolated  links,  but  form  part  of  an  endless 
chain  of  antecedents  and  consequents,  each  of  which  id 
a  cause  of  its  consequent,  and  an  effect  of  its  antece- 
dent. A  narrator  rises  in  dignity  in  proportion  as  lie 
becomes  a  philosopher,  and  explains  the  events  ho 
narrates.  This  requires  a  constant  reference  to  the 
actual  sequence  of  events  in  time.  Chronology  and 
geography  have  been  aptly  called  the  two  eyes  of  his- 
tory. Chronology,  by  a  different  metaphor,  has  been 
called  the  latitude  and  longitude  of  narrative.  The 
reader  misses  a  marginal  chronology  in  Gibbon's  great 
history. 

2.  Reasons  for  Violating  the  Order  of  Time*. 

Sometimes  it  may  be  desirable  to  violate  the  actual 
order  of  events  for  a  special  reason.  Thus  Virgil,  in 
the  "jEneid,"  first  describes  the  storm  which  wrecked 
the  fleet  of  his  hero,  and  threw  him  upon  the  African 
coast,  and  then  causes  him  to  relate  to  Queen  Dido  his 
own  previous  adventures.  Homer  had  employed  a 
similar  plan  in  the  "Odyssey,"  where  Odysseus  is  re- 
presented as  recounting  his  misfortunes  to  the  Phaeacian 
court.  In  these  cases  the  violation  of  the  natural  order 
is  for  the  obvious  purpose  of  allowing  the  hero  to  add 
the  charm  of  personal  narration  to  the  story  of  his 
wanderings.  George  Eliot  has  used  a  similar  inver- 
sion for  a  different  purpose.  In  "  Daniel  Deronda," 
the  heroine  is  introduced  to  the  reader  as  a  desperate 
pleasure-seeker  in  a  gambling  scene.  The  remainder 
of  the  story  is  to  a  great  extent  occupied  with  a  retro- 
spective history  of  her  life.  The  obvious  design  of  the 
inversion  is  to  absorb  the  reader's  attention  and  inter- 


90  THE   SCIENCE  OF   RHETORIC. 

cst  in  the  chain  of  events  which  brought  Gwendolen 
Harleth  to  the  gaming  table. 

3.  Retrospective  References. 

A  backward  reference  may  be  necessary  in  placing 
the  true  order  of  events  before  the  mind.  Macaulay, 
in  his  "  History  of  England,"  introduces  his  account 
of  the  period  abou\,  rdiich  he  specially  writes  with  a 
prefatory  summary  of  English  history  from  the  Roman 
invasion.  Thus  his  readers  are  prepared  to  place  the 
events  which  make  up  the  history  in  their  proper 
relations  with  their  antecedents.  A  plan  somewhat 
different  from  this  is,  to  describe  a  recent  or  existing 
state  of  affairs,  and  then  to  point  out  the  causes  which 
have  produced  it.  An  acquaintance  with  present  facts 
interests  us  in  their  antecedents.  In  his  "Elements 
of  Geology,"  Sir  Charles  Lyell  has  first  shown  what  is 
to  be  accounted  for,  and  then  proceeds  to  narrate  the 
geological  history  of  previous  ages,  by  which  he  ac- 
counts for  the  present  state  of  the  globe. 

4.  Probability. 

Probability  ought  to  be  attended  to  in  a  narrative. 
It  depends  greatly  upon  the  order  of  events  whether  or 
not  they  seem  probable.  Writers  are  most  in  danger 
of  making  their  story  improbable  when  there  are  many 
concurrent  events  having  a  causal  relation,  but  which 
are  not  brought  into  one  view.  This  leads  us  to  the 
topic  of  the  next  section,  in  which  the  best  modes  oi 
surmounting  this  obstacle  will  be  pointed  out. 


LAWS  OF  IDBA.  91 

SECTION  III. 
SYNCHRONISM  OF  EVENTS. 

1.  Kinds  of  Concurrence. 

The  chief  difficulties  of  narration  arise  when  con- 
curring streams  of  events  have  to  be  exhibited  as  con- 
temporaneous in  order  to  show  their  actual  relations. 
This  concurrence  is  of  several  kinds. 

(1)  Plurality    of  Departments.— The  life  of   a 
nation  is  complex.     One  department  acts  upon  another, 
and  is  acted  upon  by  other  departments.     Military, 
political,  social,  literary,  and  scientific  life  all  flow  on 
together,  and  their  currents  ever  mingle  and  impart 
color  to  one  another.     The  highest  genius  is  requisite 
to  exhibit  all  these  various  modes  of  progress  in  a  true 
panoramic  view. 

(2)  Contending  Parties.— The  historian  ought  to 
rise  above  the  advocate,  and,  when  there  are  two  sides, 
he  is  under  obligation  to  represent  both.     In  depicting 
any  kind  of  conflict,  where  the  movements  of  both 
sides  are  to  be  narrated,  there  is  great  danger  of  con- 
fusion from  a  frequent  shifting  of  the  point  of  view. 
Few  historians  have  the  advantage  of  Kinglake  at  the 
Alma,  where,  as  an  eye-witness,  he  retains  his  point  oi 
view  throughout  the  conflict.     Those  who  compile  from 
the  accounts  of  many  witnesses  are  in  danger  of  sacri- 
ficing unity,  and  of  blurring  the  whole  picture. 

(3)  Principal  and  Subordinate   Actions.— In  a 

biography,  or  the  narration  of  a  campaign  or  voyage, 
the  events  are  not  all  of  the  same  rank.  Some  are 
principal,  others  merely  subordinate.  These  must  be 


02  THE   SCIENCE   OP   KIIKTOIMC. 

carefully  distinguished,  and  prominence  must  be  given 
to  the  principal  events,  while  the  minor  incidents  mus* 
oe  duly  subordinated. 

(4)  Different  Countries.— The  history  of  some 
countries,  Greece  for  example,  is  the  history  of  a  single 
race,  but  at  the  same  time  consists  of  a  plurality  of 
histories.  Sparta,  Athens,  and  Thebes  live  an  inde- 
pendent life.  The  historian  of  Greece  must  carry  along 
the  story  of  all  these  states,  with  their  numerous  colo- 
nies, so  as  to  maintain  unity,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
give  to  each  state  its  separate  place  in  the  narrative. 
The  difficulty  is  increased  when  the  historian  attempts 
to  narrate  the  concurrent  progress  of  states  less  inti- 
mately connected,  as  in  a  history  of  Europe  or  of  the 
world.  Here  the  highest  genius  is  necessary  to  success. 
An  interesting  universal  history  is  more  difficult  than 
an  epic  poem,  and  it  may  be  said  that  the  problem  oi 
its  production  remains  unsolved. 

2.  Means  of  Expressing  Synchronism. 

The  expedients  resorted  to  in  representing  contem- 
poraneous events  are  of  great  practical  value,  yet  they 
leave  many  things  for  genius  to  solve  in  its  own  mys- 
terious way.  Macaulay  was  gifted,  perhaps  beyond  all 
other  men,  with  the  power  of  seeing  periods  of  history  as 
organic  wholes,  and  has  succeeded  in  presenting  them 
as  such.  Taine  thus  speaks  of  this  gift :  "So  many 
accumulated  events  form  with  him  not  a  total,  but  a 
whole.  Explanations,  accounts,  dissertations,  anec- 
dotes, illustrations,  comparisons,  allusions  to  modern 
events,  everything  is  connected  in  his  book.  It  is 
because  everything  is  connected  in  his  mind.  He 
had  a  most  lively  consciousness  of  causes ;  and  causes 


LJLWS  OF   IDEA.  93 

nnite  facts.  By  them  scattered  events  are  assembled 
into  a  single  event ;  they  unite  them  because  they  pro- 
duce them,  and  the  historian  who  seeks  them  all  out, 
cannot  fail  to  perceive  or  to  feel  the  unity  which  is  their 
effect."* 

Of  the  ordinary  means  of  overcoming  the  difficul- 
ties of  synchronism,,  we  may  mention  the  following  : 

(1)  Sensible  Forms. — Charts  in  the  form  of  trees, 
streams,  and  other  physical  objects,  may  be  helpful  in 
fixing  the  relations  of  periods  in  the  mind.     In  written 
history  they   are   of   very   great  service,  but  even  in 
speaking  they  may  often  be  employed.     Here  the  met- 
aphor or  simile  takes  the  place  of  the  actual  chart. 
For  example,  in  tracing  the  history  of  the  Indo-Eu- 
ropean family,  the  migrations  of  that  race  may  be  rep- 
resented under  the  figure  of  seven  streams  diverging 
from  a  common  fountain,  and,  although  each  is  fol- 
lowed separately,  the  mind  will  readily  perceive  that 
the  others  are  flowing  simultaneously,  and  this  may 
be    indicated   by  concentric   circles  intersecting  the 
streams  and  representing  centuries. 

(2)  Analysis. — A  perspicuous  division  into  chapters 
and  sections  assists  the  mind  in  associating  synchronistic 
events.     Hence  every  complicated  narrative  should  be 
so  divided  as  to  suggest  the  parallel  occurrences.     The 
division  of  history  according  to  reigns  is  not  so  philo- 
sophical as  a  division  according  to  great  historic  move- 
ments.    In  composing  the  biography  of  a  great  man, 
it  would  be  absurd  to  divide  his  life  according  to  the 
contemporary  presidents.     In  every  life,  individual  or 
national,  there  are  causes  which  impel  the  man  or  the 
nation  in  certain  different  directions.     These  are  the 

*  English  Literature,  Vol.  III. 


94  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

true   outlines   of  analysis,  and   give  rise   to  distinct 
epochs. 

(3)  Summary. — A  condensed  summary  of  a  pe- 
riod may  be  useful  in  setting  events  necessarily  sepa- 
rated in  the  progress  of  the  narrative  in  their  proper 
chronological  relations.  Such  abridgments  serve  the 
same  purpose  as  maps  after  an  observation  of  the 
ground.  They  correct  the  erroneous  impressions  re- 
sulting from  detached  views.  The  proper  place  for  a 
summary  depends  upon  circumstances.  If  interest  in 
the  plot  will  be  diminished  by  a  revelation  of  it,  the 
summary  ought  not  to  be  presented  in  the  introduction. 
If,  however,  by  coming  first  it  will  abridge  the  process 
of  arrangement  in  the  mind  of  the  reader,  it  may  be 
placed  at  the  beginning,  as  a  topographical  map  is 
spread  out  before  a  campaign.  Usually  the  summary 
is  retrospective.  Coming  after  the  detailed  narrative, 
it  serves  to  straighten  the  entangled  threads  of  the 
story. 


EXPOSITION. 


^^ 


EXPOSITION"  consists  in  such  an  analysis  of  a  gen- 
eral term  as  will  make  clear  to  the  mind  the  general 
notion  of  which  it  is  the  sign.  By  "  general  term  "  is 
meant  a  word  indicating  a  general  notion.  By  "  gen- 
eral notion  "  is  meant  a  mode  of  thought  in  which  cer- 
tain attributes  are  taken  as  belonging  to  certain  objects, 
and  as  uniting  them  in  one  class.  Thus  "animal",. 
includes  the  attributes  "organized,"  "sentient,"  etc., 
and  is  applicable  to  such  objects  as  "men,"  "horses, 
"dogs,"  etc.,  which  make  up  the  class  "animal"  by 
possessing  the  attributes  "  organized"  "  sentient,"  etc., 
in  common.  A  general  term  is  distinguished  from  a 
singular  term,  such  as  Rome,  Julius  Ccesar,  the  Nile, 
indicating  a  single  object. 

2,  Forms  of  Exposition. 

Exposition  assumes  two  forms  :  (1)  Exposition  of 
the  notion  in  itself  ;  and  (2)  exposition  of  the  notion 
in  its  relation  to  other  notions.  In  either  of  these 
^orms  of  exposition,  we  niay  have  single  terms,  or 
terms  united  in  propositions.  In  order  to  avoid  use- 
less repetition,  it  may  be  stated  that  the  exposition  of 
the  terms  of  a  proposition  is  an  exposition  of  the  prop- 


06  THE   SCIENCE   OF   JIHETOKIC. 

pos/rion  itself.  Thus  in  the  proposition,  "Free  insti- 
fcuti^ns  are  promotive  of  happiness,"  an  exposition  of 
the  subject  and  the  predicate  would  be  an  exposition 
of  the  whole  proposition.  The  copula  "are"  requires 
no  exposition.  Any  doubt  with  reference  to  the  cop- 
ula, is  not  a  doubt  as  to  the  meaning,  but  as  to  the 
truth  of  the  proposition.  The  truth  of  a  proposition 
must  be  established  by  argument,  which  takes  for 
granted  the  meaning  of  the  terms,  and  is  occupied 
with  the  negative  or  affirmative  quality  of  the  copula. 
Exposition  elucidates  the  meaning  of  "free  institu- 
tions" and  "promotive  of  happiness;  and  here  its 
office  ends.  Argumentation  then  decides  whether 
the  copula  should  be  "are"  or  " are-not." 

SECTION   I. 

EXPOSITION   OF   THE   NOTION   IN 
ITSELF. 

1.  Comprehension  and  Extension. 

A  general  notion,  or  conception  of  a  class,  includes 
certain  attributes  and  certain  objects  to  which  the  at- 
tributes belong.  For  example,  the  word  man  includes 
such  attributes  as  rationality,  intellectuality,  voluntary 
power,  etc.,  and  also  includes  all  the  individual  beings 
known  to  us  as  men.  Man  is  also  an  animal,  but  this 
term  includes,  a  greater  number  of  objects  than  the 
word  man,  for  it  embraces  horses,  dogs,  etc.  -But 
these  other  animals  do  not  possess  rationality  or  Intel- 
lectualitfa  The  class  "animal"  excludes  common  att 
tributes  in  proportion  as  it- includes  more  objects.  V»rc 
have,  then,  in  a  general  notion,  two  kinds  of  quantity  : 
(1)  comprehension,  which  is  made  up  of  the  diflVivn' 


LAWS   OF   IDEA.  97 

it-tributes  included  in  the  notion  ;  and  (2)  .extension 
which  is  made  up  of  those  objects  which  are  included 
in  the  general  notion.  These  two,  comprehension  and 
extension,  are  in  an  inverse  ratio  to  each  other.  As  \ve 
pass  from  "  man  "to  "  animal "  the  extension  increases, 
but  the  comprehension  diminishes  ;  the  objects  included 
are  more  numerous,  the  attributes  implied  are  less  nu- 
merous. 

2.  Nature  of  a  Definition. 

The  exposition  of  the  comprehension  of  a  notion  is 
its  logical  definition.  Thus,  in  the  notion  man  there 
are  two  constituent  notions,  the i  jirs  tin  eluding  the  at- 
tributes of  the  notion  animal,  the  second  including  the 
attributes  of  the  notion  rrt/umaC~These  constituent 
notions,  wiimal  and  rational,  may  in  turn  be  resolved 
in  like  manner  into  more  elementary  notions,  and. so  on 
until  those  notions  are  so  elementary  as  to  satisfy  the 
mind.  In  each  of  these  processes  of  resolution  we  have 
one  constituent  notion  which  includes  the  notion  de- 
fined. This  is  called  the  genus.  The  other  constitu- 
ent notion  distinguishes  >  the  fiction  defined  from  "the 
genus,  and  is  called  the  differentia.  A  definition  is? 
therefore^ a  division  of  a  general  notion  according  to 
its  attribute^  It  follows  that  a  simple  notion,  which 
"can  be  relerrcd  to*no  genus,  cannot  be  defined.  Thus 
being,  the  highest  genus  known  to  the  mind,  is  inde- 
finable, i 

3.  Nature  of  Division. 

The  exposition  of  the  extension  of  a  notion  is  its 

division.     Thus,   the   notion   man   includes   under  it 

white  men,  UacJc  men,  m/rnen,  etc.,  divided  according 

to  color;  Africans,  Asiatics,  Europeans,  etc.,  divided 

5 


98  THE    SCIENCE    OF    RHETORIC. 

according  to  geographical  lines  ;  Jews,  Mohan medanst 
Buddhists,  Cfiristiam,  etc.  divided  according  to  religion 
It  is  evident  that  the  character  of  our  division  will  tie- 
,pcnd  entirely  upon  the  principle  according  to  which  we 
divide  a  notion  into  its  constituent  objects.  It  follows 
that  a  notion  cannot  be  divided  when  it  includes  only 
one  object. 

4.  Difference  between  Definition  and 
Division. 

Definition  and  division  are  opposite  processes. 
Comprehension  is  simply  the  sum  of  the  qualities, 
characteristics  or  attributes  of  which  a  notion  is  com- 
posed, and  is  resolved  into  its  parts  by  definition.  Ex- 
tension is  simply  the  sum  or  complement  of  the  objects 
whose  resembling  characteristics  constitute  the  genera, 
notion,  and  is  resolved  into  its  parts  by  division.  De 
filiation  is  a  discrimination  of  attributes  ;  division  a 
discrimination  of  objects.  As  the  list  of  attributes 
is  lengthened,  the  list  of  objects  possessing  them  is 
shortened  ;  and  vice  versa.  Being  is  the  maximum  of 
extension  and  the  minimum  of  comprehension.  In- 
cluding the  greatest  number  of  objects,  it  includes  the 
least  number  of  attributes. 

5.  Kinds  of  Definition. 

Three  principal  kinds  of  definition  are  distinguished 
by  Hamilton. 

(1)  Nominal. — Nominal  definitions  are  mere  ex 
plications.  The}  tire,  therefore,  generally  preliminary 
to  a  more  precise  distinction.  Thus  the  nominal  def- 
inition of  a  circle  is,  "The  word  '  circle '  signifies  a 
uniformly  curved  line." 


LAWS   OF   IDEA.  99 

(2)  Eeal. — In  real  definitions,  the  object  defined  is 
considered   as  existing,    and  the  notion    precedes  the 
definition.     They  are  merely  analytic,  nothing  being 
given  explicitly  in  the  defining  member  which  is  not 
contained  implicitly  in  the  subject  defined;  as,  "A 
circle  is  a  line  returning  upon  itself,  of  which  all  the 
parts  are  equi-distant  from  a  given  point." 

(3)  Genetic. — The  genetic  definition  represents  the 
defined  object  as  in  the  process  of  becoming.     It  is 
therefore  synthetic  ;  as,  "A  circle  is  formed  when  we 
draw  around,   and  always  at  the  same  distance  from 
a  fixed  point,  a  movable  point  which  leaves  its  trace, 
until  the  termination  of  the  movement  coincides  with 
its  commencement."     The  genetic  definition  is  possible 
only  when  the  objects  to  be  defined  are  quantities  rep- 
resented in  time  or  space. 

6.  The  Laws  of  Logical  Definition. 

The  following  are  the  laws  of  a  strictly  logical 
definition. 

(1)  A  definition  must  be  adequate.— This  neces- 
sitates a  genus  and  a  differentia,     A  true  definition 
will  admit  of  a  transposition  of  the  subject  and  the 
predicate.     Such  a  transposition  is  an  easy  test  of  a 
definition.     If  "  Man  is  a  rational  animal"  be  an  ade- 
quate definition,  it  must  be  true  that  a  rational  animal 
is  a  man ;  for  otherwise  something  besides  men  is  in- 
cluded in  the  definition. 

(2)  A  definition  must  not  define  by  negative  or 

divisive  attributes. — We  do  not  say  what  a  notion  is 
'by  saying  what  it  is  not ;  nor  do  we  define  a  notion  by 
referring  it  to  one  class  or  another,  which  is  a  process 
af  division.  These  expedients  may  properly  precede 


LOO  THE   SCIENCE   OF   KHETOllIC. 

and  prepare  the  way  for  a  definition,  but  they  are  net 
definitions. 

(3)  A  definition  should  not  be  tautological.— We 

cannot  define  an  object  by  itself.  rtfThis  is  called  "de- 
lining  in  a  circle."  This  is  a  very  common  fault,  and 
is  fostered  by  the  bilingual  character  of  the  English 
language,  which  renders  it  possible  to  define  an  Anglo- 
Saxon  word  by  a  Norman-French  equivalent.  The 
verbal  form  conceals  the  repetition  of  thought.  This 
mode  of  explaining  by  equivalents  is  often  useful,  but 
must  not  be  mistaken  for  a  logical  definition. 

(4)  The  definition  must  be  precise.— Any  attribute 
not  essential  to  the  distinction  only  confuses  it."    The 
looseness  of  a  definition  leaves  it  open  to  refutation. 
The  Platonic  definition,  "  Man  is  a  two-legged  animal 
without  feathers,"  was  refuted  by  exhibiting  a  plucked 
bird,  which,  by  transposition  of  the  subject  and  predi- 
cate, would  be  a  man,  if  the  definition  were  correct. 

(5)  A  definition  should  be  perspicuous. — The  very 
object  of  a  definition  is  clearness.     That  it  should  itself 
be  perspicuous  is,  therefore,  self-evident.     Brevity  is 
generally  necessary  to  perspicuity.    Figurative  language 
will  often  render  definitions  brilliant,  but  it  will  fre- 
quently expose  them  to  criticism  for  violating  this  law. 

7.  Kinds  of  Division. 

(1)  Partition. — The  notion  man  may  be  regarded 
as  made  up  of  certain  attributes ;  as  living  being,  ra- 
tional^ mortal,  etc.  This  division  of  a  notion  into  ita 
component  attributes  is  called  partition.  It  differs 
from  definition  in  enumerating  all  the  attributes  which 
make  up  a  whole,  while  definition  states  only  a  genus 
and  differentia.  It  differs  from  logical  division  ii: 


OF   IDnlA.  101 

being  a  division  of  the  comprehension,  not;  of  tho 
extension. 

(2)  Logical  Division. — A  logical  division  is  an  ex 
position  of  the  extension  of  a  notion  ;  it  enumerates, 
not  tho  attributes  but  the  species  of  a  notion.  Thus 
man  may  be  divided  into  the  various  species  togethei 
comprising  the  general  notion  man,  and  the  division,  as 
previously  shown,  may  be  according  to  any  one  of  many 
principles.  The  principle  of  division  is  the  one  essential 
attribute  according  to  which  the  division  is  made. 
The  notion  is  called  the  divided  whole  ;  its  parts  are 
the  dividing  members  ;  these  with  reference  to  one 
another  are  co-ordinates  ;  with  reference  to  the  divided 
whole,  subordinates. 

8.  The  Laws  of  Logical  Division. 

The  logical  division  of  a  notion  is  regulated  by 
several  laws. 

(1)  Every  Division  should  have  some  Principle, 

— The  reason  of  this  is  manifest.  If  there  be  no  attri- 
bute with  reference  to  which  objects  are  classed,  there 
can  be  no  division. 

(2)  Every  Division  should  have  but  one  Principle. 
— If  there  are  two  or  more  principles  of  division,  there 
will  be  no  division.     Thus,  to  class  men  as  lolute,  Af- 
rican, English,  moral,  and  Jews,  would  not  be  a  divis- 
ion of  men,  for  these  classes  include  one  another. 

(3)  The  Principle  of  Division  should  be  an  actual 
and  essential  character  of  the  divided  whole,— Unless 
such  a  principle  be  selected,  there  will  be  no  distinct 
and  recognizable  line  of  demarcation  between  the  sub- 
ordinates. 

(4)  No  dividing  member  must  of  itself  exhaust 


102  THE  SCIENCE  OF   RHETORIC. 

the  subject. — This  law  follows  from  the  axiom  that  a 
part  is  less  than  the  whole.  That  then  must  be  a  faulty 
division  which  represents  a  part  as  exhausting  the  whole 
A  division  of  men  into  intelligent  races  and  barbarous 
races,  would  violate  this  law,  since  all  men  possess  some 
degree  of  intelligence,  and  are  hence  included  under 
the  first  class. 

(5)  The  dividing  members  must  together  exhaust 

the  notion,  but  not  more, — Leaving  out  a  distinct  class 
violates  this  law.  Thus,  if  we  were  to  divide  all  actions 
into  the  morally  good  and  the  morally  lad,  excluding 
those  which  possess  no  moral  quality,  the  division 
would  be  incorrect.  This  division  would  be  a  correct 
one  of  moral  actions,  but  not  of  actions  generally,  since 
some  are  morally  indifferent.  If  we  were  to  divide 
geometrical  figures  into  surfaces,  solids,  lines,  and 
points,  we  should  more  than  exhaust  the  notion  ex* 
pressed  by  the  word  figures,  for  lines  and  points, 
though  elements  of  figures,  are  not  figures. 

(6)  The  dividing  members  should  not  include  one 

another. — This  law  is  often  practically  difficult  to  fol- 
low. Presenting  the  same  subordinate  more  than  once 
is  a  violation  of  this  law.  A  perfect  exposition  of  a 
science  would  so  classify  its  facts  that  they  would  ap- 
pear but  once.  Practically  this  is  almost  impossible. 
Logic  and  ^Esthetics,  for  example,  are  distinct  from 
Rhetoric,  but  there  could  be  no  science  of  Ehetoric 
which  should  not  repeat  facts  of  Logic  and  ^Esthetics, 
Again,  the  laws  of  Ehetoric  are  laws  of  mind,  of  idea, 
and  of  form,  but  they  are  all  so  interdependent  that 
the  same  fact  often  reappears  under  each  of  these 
divisions. 

(7)  A  division  should  proceed  continuously  with- 


LAVS   OF   IDEA.  103 

Out  hiatus. — Division  may  proceed  through  proximate 
or  remote  subdivisions.  A  perfect  division  docs  not 
leap  over  intermediate  steps.  Mathematicians  may  1'<»i 
brevity  say,  "'Angles  are  cither  right,  or  acute,  or  ob- 
tuse." A  continuous  division  would  be,  "  Angles  are 
either  right  or  oblique  ;  and  the  oblique,  either  acute 
or  obtuse." 

Imperfect.  Continuous.* 

p.  Right.  p.  Right. 

Angles.<2.  Acute.  Angles. <  ( (1)  Acute. 

(3.  Obtuse  (2.  Oblique.  ] 

( (2)  Obtuse 

\*      9.  Exposition  of  a  Proposition. 

A  proposition  may  be  explicated  by  the  exposition 
of  its  terms.  This  exposition  may  be  by  definition  or 
oy  division.  The  process  may  be  illustrated. 

(1)  By  Definition. — A  proposition  may  be  expli- 
cated by  the  definition  of  its  terms.  Let  us  take  the 
proposition,  "  Democracy  is  promotive  of  liberty." 
Assuming  that  the  word  "promotive"  needs  no  ex- 
position, we  have  an  exposition  of  this  proposition 
when  we  have  defined  the  terms  "democracy"  and 
'  liberty."  In  seeking  for  the  genus  of  "  democracy," 
we  must  first  decide  whether  we  mean  a  form  of  gov- 
ernment, a  political  party,  or  the  avowed  principles  of 
that  party.  If  we  mean  the  first,  form  of  government 
is  the  genus.  The  differentia  is  expressed  in  the 
phrase  ly  the  people,  which  distinguishes  it  from  other 
forms  of  government.  The  logical  definition  of  "do 
moeracy,"  in  this  sense,  is,  A  form  of  government  ~bi} 
the  people. 

"Liberty"  must  now  be  defined.  In  its  political 
sense,  "  liberty  "  may  be  referred  to  the  genus  state  of 
society.  It  must  now  be  distinguished  from  other  states 


104  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETOK1C. 

of  society,  such  as  license,  anarchy  or  despotism.  Tlio 
differentia  regulated  by  just  laws  distinguishes  it  from 
these,  since  license  is  lawless,  anarchy  is  the  absence  ol 
law,  and  despotism  interferes  with  it.  The  definition 
of  "  liberty  "  is,  A  state  of  society  regulated  by  just  laws. 
Substituting  the  two  definitions  for  the  original  terms, 
we  have  the  proposition,  A  form  of  government  by  the 
people  is  promotive  of  a  state  of  society  regulated  by  just 
laws.  This  is  an  exposition  by  definition  of  the  origi- 
nal proposition. 

(2)  By  Division. — Let  us  take  the  proposition. 
"  Frecj^pLstitutions  are  compatible  with  literary  pro- 
gress." Assuming  that  the  expression  "compatible 
with  "  needs  no  explanation,  the  exposition  of  the  terms 
"  free  institutions  "  and  "  literary  progress,"  is  the  ex- 
position of  the  whole  proposition.  Before  dividing  the 
subiect  "  free  institutions,"  we  must  select  a  principle 
of  division.  Let  it  be  the  interests  of  society.  These 
are  educational,  political,  religious,  commercial,  indus- 
trial, etc.  We  may  then  state  the  proposition  thus  : 

f  educational, 1 
political, 

Free  •!  Commercial  f institutioils  arc  compatible  with  literary  progress. 

and 
( industrial 

We  may  now  divide  the  predicate.  "  Literary  pro- 
gress "  may  be  divided  into  the  progress  of  the  differ- 
ent departments  embraced  under  the  notion  literature. 
These  may  be  imperfectly  enumerated  as  oratory, 
poetry,  history,  criticism,  journalism.  Substituting 
this  complex  predicate  for  the  term  "literary  pro- 
gress," we  have  this  exposition  of  the  original  proposi- 
tion : — 


LAWS  OF   IDEA.  105 


Free 


educational, 
political, 


industrial 


( oratory, 
poetry, 
history, 
crticisin, 

and 
journalism. 


It  is  important  to  note  that  if  the  expanded  sub 
;'cct  and  predicate  agree,  the  truth  of  the  origin  a] 
proposition  is  made  evident.  If,  on  the  contrary, 
disagreement  can  be  shown  between  any  element  of  the 
expanded  predicate  and  any  element  of  the  expanded 
subject,  it  shows  that  the  original  proposition  is  not  . 
universally  true.  ^  -» 

SECTION  II. 

EXPOSITION  OF  THE  NOTION  THROUGH 
ITS  RELATIONS. 

When  the  logical  exposition  of  a  notion  Is  not  con- 
venient, it  may  be  explicated  through  its  relation  to 
other  notions.  Several  methods  of  doing  this  may  be 
enumerated. 

1.  The  Method  of  Particulars. 

We  may  explicate  a  notion  by  mentioning  particu- 
lar cases  or  concrete  instances.  This  is  a  simple  expe- 
dient, adapted  to  a  low  order  of  intelligence,  and  re- 
quiring no  powers  of  generalization.  Thus,  poetry 
may  be  explained  by  enumerating  representative  poems, 
and  beauty  by  concrete  examples  of  the  beautiful  in 
objects 

2.  The  Method  of  Conditions. 

A  second  method  of  explicating  a  notion  is  to  men- 
tion the  conditions  essential  to  its  production  or  P.*;*. 
5* 


100  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

(once.  Thus  the  notion  dew  may  be  explained  by  the 
enumeration  of  the  circumstances  in  which  the  moist- 
ti  iv  of  atmospheric  vapor  condenses.  Cause  and  effect 
are  both  included  under  this  head. 

3.  The  Method  of  Similars. 

A  general  notion  maybe  explained  by  comparing  it 
to  similar  notions.  No  direct  similitude  is  necessary, 
but  simply  a  resemblance  of  relations.  Our  notions  of 
divinity  and  supernatural  beings  are  explicated  through 
our  notions  of  being  and  spirit  as  they  are  known  to 
us  inronsciousness.  Hence  many  of  the  most  impor- 
tant ideas  of  philosophy  and  religion  are  explicated  in 
this  way. 

4.  The  Method  of  Contrast. 

We  may  give  an  exposition  of  a  notion  through  its 
opposite.  All  knowledge  is  double.  Heat  and  cold, 
light  and  darkness,  good  and  evil,  are  fixed  in  thought 
as  opposite  poles.  Some  of  our  most  common  notions 
can  be  discriminated  only  by  this  method.  The  no- 
tion of  self,  or  the  Ego,  is  distinguished  from  the  not- 
telf,  or  non-Ego,  by  the  method  of  contrast. 


A  R  G  U  M  E  N  TAT  ION. 
1.  The  Rhetorical  Use  of  Argument. 

IN  many  modern  systems  of  Rhetoric,  argumenta- 
tion has  no  place.  The  whole  process  of  confirmation 
is  referred  to  Logic.  We  need,  however,  to  distinguish 
between  the  logical  and  the  rhetorical  treatment  of  the 
subject.  Logic  deals  with  the  laws  of  thought  as 
thought ;  Rhetoric  deals  with  the  laws  of  altering  or 
producing  conviction.  Tke  problem  of  Logic  is,  with 
certain  propositions  as  premises,  what  conclusion  may 
we  draw  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  thought  ?  The 
problem  of  Rhetoric  concerning  arguments  is,  given,  a 
certain  conclusion,  how  may  we  confirm  it  to  the  mind 
of  another  ?  Logic  gives  us  the  test  of  arguments  ; 
Rhetoric  gives  us  the  rules  for  making  them  effective.  ' 
With  this  distinction,  argumentation  forms  an  impor- 
tant part  of  Rhetoric. 

2.   The  Division  of  Arguments. 

The  first  step  in  the  treatment  of  arguments  is  to 
find  a  correct  classification  of  their  kinds.     Several  di 
visions  have  been  given. 

(1)  Form. — They  have  been  divided  into  irregula. 
or  enthymemes,  and  regular,  or  syllogisms  ;  syllogisms 
into  categorical  and  hypothetical ;  the  categorical  into 


108  THE   SCIENCE   OF    RHETORIC. 

those  of  the  first,  second,  third,  and   fourth   figures 
the  hypothetical  into  the  conditional  and  disjunctive  , 
as  in  the  following  scheme  : 

1st  Figure 
fl.  Categorical 
Argument.]  Jv  3« 


This  is  evidently  a  division  according  to  the  form 
in  which  they  may  be  stated,  for  any  argument  may 
be  stated  in  any  of  the  forms  mentioned. 

(2)  Subject  Mattor.  —  Another  division  of  argu- 
ments is  into  necessary  or  demonstrative^  and  morai 
or  probable  ;  thus  : 

Arp-nmpnt*  .I  L  Necessary  or  demonstrative, 
ents-  1  II.  Moral  or  probable. 

This  is  evidently  a  division  according  to  the  nature 
of  the  subject-matter.  In  mathematics,  all  arguments 
are  necessary  ;  in  human  affairs,  they  are  generally 
only  probable. 

(3)  Purpose.  —  Arguments  are   also   divided    into 
direct  or  indirect,   according  as  the   intention  is   to 
establish  a  given  proposition,  or  to  reduce  a  proposition 
to  an  absurdity. 

Arguments]  fi.^edct,ct_ 

This  is  plainly  a  division  according  to  the  purpose 
for  which  the  arguments  are  used. 

(4)  Arguments  as  Such,  —  The  three   schemes  of 
division  above  mentioned  do  not  divide  arguments  as 
such,  but  according  to  some  peculiarity  of  form  or  use. 
Hence   arguments  may  at  once  belong  to   all   three 
classes.     For  example,  the  same  argument  may  be  a 
syllogism,  necessary  and  direct. 


LAWS  OF   IDEA.  109 

In  order  to  find  a  principle  of  division  b)  which  tc 
classify  arguments  according  to  their  essential  nature, 
we  must  find  wherein  lies  the  essence  of  an  argument 
Arguments  are  distinguished  from  other  propositions 
"By  some  relation  between  the  subject-matter  of  the  conclu- 
sion and  the  subject -matter  of  the  proposition  used  as  an 
argument.  A  true  classification  of  arguments  will  be 
a  classification  of  the  kinds  of  relation  which  may  sub- 
sist between  things.  We  find  these  kinds  of  relation  to 
be  three. 

Let  the  conclusion  to  be  established  be,  "It  will 
rain  to-morrow."  What  proposition  can  confirm  this 
conclusion,  or,  in  other  words,  serve  as  an  argument 
to  prove  it  ?  Clearly  none  whose  subject-matter  is  not 
related  to  the  production  of  rain.  "  The  clouds  are 
forming,"  would  be  such  a  proposition,  because  the 
forming  of  the  clouds  shows  a  cause  which,  if  unim- 
peded, will  produce  rain. 

Let  the  proposition  be,  "  It  has  rained."  What 
proposition  will  confirm  this  conclusion  ?  "  The 
ground  is  everywhere  wet,"  would  be  a  proposition 
whose  subject-matter  is  related  to  the  conclusion,  since 
the  general  wetness  is  a  sign  or  effect  which  requires 
rain  as  its  necessary  condition. 

Let  the  proposition  be,  "  Tyrants  are  selfish 
men."  The  proposition  "  Caesar  was  a  tyrant  and  a 
selfish  man,"  would  be  an  argument,  because  Caesar  is 
an  example  of  tyrants,  and  the  subject-matter  of  the 
two  propositions  is  related  by  resemblance. 

Causes,  signs,  and  resemblances,  are  the  only  kinds 
of  relation  in  the  subject-matter  by  which  a  proposi- 
tion can  be  established.  The  argument  from  cause  is 
called  the  a  priori  argument.  The  arguments  from 


110  THE   SCIENCE   OF   KHETOBIC. 

sign  and  resemblance  are  called  a  posteriori  arguments, 
The  division  of  arguments  as  such  is  exhibited  in  the 
following  scheme  : 


Arguments.     4  ( 1.  Sign. 

[II.  A  posteriori. 

(2.  Resemblance. 

These  classes,  with  their  subdivisions,  will  be  treated 
more  specifically  in  the  following  sections. 


SECTION  I. 
A  PRIORI  ARGUMENTS. 

1.  Nature  of  the  Argument. 

The  a  priori  argument  is  an  argument  from  cause 
to  effect.  By  the  word  cause  is  here  meant  whatever 
would  account  for  a  fact,  if  the  fact  were  admitted.  In 
this  sense  the  word  sometimes  but  not  always  indicates 
a  physical  cause.  If  we  were  to  adduce  the  proposi- 
tion "The  sun's  rays  are  most  nearly  vertical  in  sum- 
mer/' to  prove  that  "  The  earth  is  warmest  in  summer," 
the  logical  and  physical  causes  would  coincide.  .  If  we 
were  to  claim  that  A  B  and  C  possess  intelligence  be- 
cause they  are  men,  the  logical  cause  would  be  distinct 
from  any  physical  cause,  for  A  B  and  C  are  no  more 
intelligent  because  they  are  men  than  they  are  men  be- 
cause they  are  intelligent.  Yet,  since  the  fact  that 
they  are  men  accounts  for,  i.  e.,  explains  wliy  they 
should  be  regarded  as  possessing  intelligence,  this  is  an 
&  priori  argument.  The  word  cause  is  used  in  the 
popular  sense. 
[  2.  Extent  of  Inference  from  a  Cause. 

When  a  cause  is  known  to  exist,  we  may  infer  from 
its  existence  any  effect  which  it  is  capable  of  produc- 


LAWS   OF  IDEA.  ]  il 

ing,  unless  impediments  are  presented  to  its  operation. 
Thus,  if  a  man  is  known  to  entertain  a  bitter  hatred 
of  a  neighbor,  and  that  neighbor  is  found  dead,  with 
obvious  marks  of  assassination,  suspicion  may  point  to 
the  hostile  neighbor.  If  impediments  to  the  operation 
of  hatred  as  the  cause  of  this  murder,  such  as  fear  of 
punishment,  the  fear  of  God,  a  forgiving  spirit,  ab- 
sence from  the  place,  or  some  similar  circumstances, 
cannot  be  shown,  the  suspicion  will  be  very  strong.  In 
this  case,  however,  a  posteriori  proofs  would  be  needed 
for  conviction,  since  other  causes  might  have  produced 
this  effect,  even  if  hatred  be  admitted  as  an  adequate 
causo.  Let  the  case  be  a  purely  physical  one.  Let 
the  steam  be  turned  on  in  a  locomotive,  and  it  is  cer- 
tain that  the  locomotive  will  move,  unless  impeded  by 
too  heavy  a  train,  or  some  other  mechanical  preventive. 

3.  The  Absence  of  Cause. 

As  from  an  existing  cause  we  may  infer  its  effect, 
so,  on  the  other  hand,  the  absence  of  a  cause  is  proof 
that  the  effect  will  not  follow.  If  a  tree  is  known  to 
be  without  vitality,  it  is  certain  that  it  will  not  put 
forth  leaves  and  bear  fruit.  If  a  man  has  no  motive 
to  commit  a  crime,  and  no  opportunity  of  performing 
it,  we  may  infer  that  it  should  not  be  laid  to  his  charge „ 
It  may  not  always  be  necessary  to  assign  causes,  when 
the  a  posteriori  proofs  are  overwhelming,  for  some 
causes  are  beyond  our  discovery,  although  their  effects 
prove  that  they  exist. 

4.  The  Degree  of  Connection  between  Cause 
and  Effect. 

The  degree  of  connection  between  a  cause  and  iu 


112  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

effect  is  measured  by  the  probability  of  limderauce. 
As  tin's  probability  of  hinderance  varies  greatly,  sc 
must  the  certainly  of  an  effect  when  its  cause  exists 
and  is  operative.  Physical  causes  are  more  closely 
connected  with  their  effects  than  moral  or  mental, 
[f  we  know  the  level  of  a  water  course,  we  know  with 
certainty  in  what  direction  the  water  will  flow.  If  a 
man  is  known  to  hate  his  neighbors,  it  is  by  no  means 
certain  that  he  will  injure  them  ;  for  he  may  be  de- 
terred by  many  motives  unknown  to  any  one  besides 
himself.  Even  threatened  violence  with  an  opportu- 
nity for  its  exercise,  would  not  place  an  alleged  crime 
beyond  all  doubt.  Wherever  the  will  is  concerned, 
the  connection  of  cause  and  effect  is  uncertain. 

6.  Probability  Established  by  a  priori 
Arguments. 

Probability  is  shown  by  accounting  for  an  event,  or 
producing  its  causes.  In  poetry  and  romance,  it  is 
not  necessary  that  the  causes  should  be  real,  but  they 
should  be  such  as  to  account  for  the  effects.  In  fic- 
tion, an  important  rule  is,  to  relate  only  such  incidents 
as  can  be  accounted  for  by  the  causes  shown  to  be  op- 
erative. The  explanation  need  not  be  given  until  the 
mind  is  lost  in  mystery,  but  it  shows  a  lack  of  art  to 
close  a  volume  without  having  given  to  the  whole  an 
air  of  probability,  or,  at  least,  of  verisimilitude. 
Future  events  rest  wholly  upon  a  priori  arguments. 
Examples  may,  indeed,  be  used  to  establish  the  prob* 
ability  of  future  occurrences,  but  not  directly.  The 
example  implies  the  existence  of  a  cause  which  will  be 
likely  to  operate  again  as  it  has  in  the  given  case- 
This  cause  then  becomes  an  a  vriori  argument. 


LAWS   OF   IDEA.  113 

6    Ambiguity  of  Causal  Words 

Such  words  as  why,  ?»vo  am- 

oiguous,  si'.  no  kind 

of  sequence.  Clearness  oi'  thought  in  the  use  of  a  pri- 
ori arguments  requires  a  close  distinction  between  these 
different  senses.  The  word  why  for  example,  may  in- 
quire after  the  physical  cause  ;  as,  "  Why  do  thunder 
storms  occur  in  summer  ?  "  the  logical  cause  ;  as,  "  Why 
is  the  sum  of  the  angles  in  a  triangle  equal  to  two  right 
angles?"  or  the  final  cause  or  purpose;  as,  "Why  is 
man  filled  with  aspirations  after  immortality  ?  " 

SECTION  II. 
ARGUMENTS  FROM  SIGN. 

1.  Nature  of  the  Argument. 

The  argument  from  sign  is  an  argument  from  an 
effect  to  a  condition.  An  effect  implies  the  existence 
of  some  condition  so  connected  with  the  effect  that  the 
existence  of  the  condition  may  be  inferred  from  the 
existence  of  the  effect.  For  example,  a  man  is  found 
with  a  bloody  dagger  in  his  hand,  and  another  man  is 
found  near  by  stabbed  to  death.  The  possession  of  a 
bloody  dagger  is  an  effect  implying  some  use  of  the 
dagger  as  its  condition.  If  no  other  condition  than  a 
murderous  use  of  the  dagger  can  be  suggested,  the 
possessor  of  the  dagger  is  proved  to  be  the  murderer. 
If  another  use  of  the  dagger  is  avowed,  guilt  must  be 
determined  by  the  balance  of  probability  that  the 
murderous  use,  and  not  the  alleged  use  was  the  con- 
dition. 


114  TIIE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

If  a  condition  be  absolutely  essential  to  the  effect, 
the  existence  of  the  effect  is  demonstrative  proof  of  the 
condition.  If  a  watch  were  found  in  an  unpopulated 
island,  it  would  be  demonstrative  proof  that  it  had  beon 
carried  there,  that  being  the  necessary  condition  of  its 
being  there.  The  presence  of  the  watch  would  be 
probable  evidence  that  a  man  had  been  there,  but  not 
demonstrative,  for  other  conditions  are  supposable, 
such  as  the  wreck  of  a  vessel,  and  the  drifting  of  some 
portion  to  the  island. 

2.  The   Calculation  of  Chances. 

This  leads  us  at  once  to  the  doctrine  of  chances, 
since  it  is  often  necessary  to  decide  between  several 
possible  conditions,  one  of  which  must  be  inferred  from 
the  given  effect.  In  the  case  above  cited,  a  sophist 
might  ask,  what  is  the  objection  to  the  supposition 
that  the  watch  was  always  on  the  island,  was,  in  short, 
the  product  of  unconscious  natural  forces  ?  Men  have 
reasoned  similarly  about  the  fossils  of  extinct  animals. 
They  have  asked  why  these  objects  may  not  have  been 
produced  just  as  they  are,  and  for  no  distinct  purpose. 
The  obvious  answer  is,  they  show  marks  of  desiyn.  But 
the  elements  of  these  fossils  or  of  this  watch,  appar- 
ently adjusted  with  so  much  skill,  must  exist  in  some 
form,  why  not  in  this  ?  There  are  as  many  chances 
against  one  form  as  against  any  other  given  form.  The 
solution  of  this  difficulty  lies  in  the  fact  that  such  rea- 
soning presents  a  false  alternative.  The  proper  com- 
parison of  chances  is  not  between  this  arrangement  of 
particles  in  the  watch  and  some  other  determinate 
arrangement,  but  between  the  probability  of  the  watch 
U-ing  the  product  of  unconscious  forces  and  the  prob- 


LAWS   OF   IDEA.  115 

ability  of  its  being  made  by  a  man  and  broug-!\x  *.<*  the 
island  in  some  way.  The  comparison  of  chauces  hi 
the  case  of  the  fossil  is  not  between  this  arrangement 
as  opposed  to  another,  bnt  between  the  probability 
that  it  was  formed  for  no  purpose,  and  the  probability 
that  it  is  the  remains  of  some  animal. 

3.  Proof  of  a  Cause. 

Among  condition*  have  no  causal  connection 

with  a  plieiiomeiioo,  others  have  such  a  connection. 
To  use  Whately's.  illustration,  if  a  man  dies  to-day, 
we  may  infer  that  he  was  alive  yesterday.  His  being 
alive  yesterday,  however,  while  an  essential  condition 
of  his  dying  to-day,  has  no  tendency  to  produce  his 
death  to-day.  Some  conditions  have  a  causal  relation 
to  the  effect.  If  the  man  dies  to-day,  some  antecedent 
must  be  supposed  to  have  produced  this  effect.  It  is 
impossible  to  prove  any  condition  as  a  cause  from  the 
effect  alone.  A  cause  may  prove  an  effect,  if  there 
are  no  hinderances,  although  there  may  be  other  causes  ; 
but  the  cause  cannot  be  inferred  from  the  effect,  for  it 
can  never  be  certain  that  the  cause  supposed  to  be 
proved  is  the  only  or  operative  cause.  Practically  the 
cause  may  be  inferred  from  the  effect  with  sufficient 
probability  to  establish  conviction  when  the  essential 
condition  seems  to  be  only  one.  In  that  case,  since 
every  effect  must  have  a  cause,  we  infer  that  the  sole 
condition  must  be  the  cause.  But  this  proof  is  not 
demonstrative,  for  the  true  cause  maybe  different  from 
Hie  supposed  cause,  and  yet  escape  our  detection. 

4.  Testimony. 

Testimony  is  a  kind  of  sign  implying  a?  a  condition 
jf  us  existence  un*  truth  of  the  fact  attested.     The 


116  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

laws  of  motive  render  it  piobable  that  testimony  would 
not  be  given  if  the  attestation  were  not  called  forth  bj 
fact.  The  same  law  leads  us  to  infer  the  possibility 
of  a  different  condition,  as  incompetency,  falsehood, 
etc  In  every  case  where  testimony  is  used  as  an  argu- 
ment, we  must  decide  between  the  truth  of  the  attes- 
tation on  the  one  hand,  and  the  incompetency  or  cor- 
ruption of  the  witness  on  the  other.  The  decision  of 
such  questions  requires  us  to  attend  to  several  particu- 
lars affecting  the  value  of  testimony. 

(1)  The  Number  of  Witnesses. — The  greater  the 

number  of  witnesses,  other  things  being  equal,  the 
greater  the  value  of  the  testimony.  The  number, 
however,  is  frequently  overestimated,  as  when  men 
bear  witness  to  the  truth  of  certain  doctrines  of  religion 
and  science.  Having  never  given  these  a  personal  in- 
vestigation, their  testimony  is  not  really  to  the  truth 
of  these  doctrines,  but  to  the  fact  that  they  are  held  as 
true. 

(2)  Character  of  Witnesses. — The  moral  and  intel- 
lectual character  of  the  witness  is  important  to  the 
value  of  the  testimony.     A  man  may  be  so  deceived  as 
to  believe  that   to  have  happened  which  in   reality 
never  occurred.     Dr.  Whately  regards  the  testimony  of 
ignorant  and  prejudiced  men  as   especially  valuable 
when  it  attests  things  too  abstruse  for  them  to  invent, 
or  contrary  to  their  prejudices.     The  testimony  of  the 
disciples  of  Jesus,  though  coming  from  comparatively 
ignorant  men,  is  not  the  less  valuable  since  they  testify 
to  facts  which  they  had  not  the  ingenuity  to  invent, 
and  to  doctrines  contrary  to  all  their  Jewish  prejudices. 

(3)  Concurrent  Witnesses. — Concurrent  testimony 
is  especially  valuable  if  there  has  been  no  opportunity 


LAWS   OF   IDEA.  11? 

for  collusion.  Too  close  concurrence,  however,  leads 
to  the  suspicion  of  previous  conference,  and  the  inven- 
tion of  a  tale.  The  testimony  of  different  witnesses 
who  have  observed  the  same  transaction  ought  to  pre- 
sent differences  of  detail  from  their  having  occupied 
different  points  of  view,  and  from  their  subjective 
modification  of  the  facts,  as  well  as  from  observing  at 
slightly  different  periods  of  time.  The  slight  differ- 
ence in  the  stories  of  the  evangelists  with  reference  to 
the  garment  worn  by  our  Saviour  at  his  crucifixion,  is 
confirmatory  of  their  trustworthiness  as  witnesses. 
The  difference  may  naturally  be  accounted  for  either 
by  the  different  times  of  day  when  the  observations 
were  made,  or  by  an  optical  difference  not  uncommon, 
or,  perhaps,  both.  The  divergence  of  statement  is 
proof  that  there  was  no  collusion. 

(4)  Adverse  Witnesses.  — Adverse  testimony  is 
usually  incidental,  as  in  the  Jewish  work  called  the 
"Generation  of  Jesus,"  which  refers  the  miracles  of 
Jesus  to  magic,  thereby  admitting  their  actual  per- 
formance. Such  evidence  will  generally  be  found  in 
some  minute  detail,  but  the  intrinsic  insignificance  of 
the  circumstance  is  no  measure  of  its  value  in  an  ar- 
gument. Much  skill  in  cross-examination  may  be 
necessary  to  draw  out  the  testimony  of  an  unwilling 
witness,  or  to  show  the  inconsistency  of  his  story.  Dr. 
Whately  cautions  against  brow-beating  a  witness,  and 
sums  up  the  whole  philosophy  of  cross-examination  in 
the  forcible  sentence  :  "  The  more  the  storm  blusters, 
the  more  carefully  he  wraps  round  him  the  cloak 
which  a  warm  sunshine  will  often  induce  him  to 
throw  off."  * 

*  Rhetoric,  Part  I.,  Chap.  a. 


118  THE   SCIENCE   OF   KHETOiUC. 

(5)  Character  of  Facts  Attested.— We  need  to 

clistir  guish  sharply  between  matters  of  fact  and  mat 
bcrs  of  opinion.  Witnesses  almost  invariably  mingle 
their  own  opinions  and  explanations  with  the  facts 
ictually  observed.  Testimony  as  to  matters  of  fact  is 
valuable  when  the  witness  is  honest  and  has  sound 
senses.  Testimony  to  matters  of  opinion  requires  in- 
telligence, or  the  ability  to  form  a  judgment,  in  addi- 
tion to  honesty  and  sound  organs  of  perception.  Any 
thing  beyond  the  natural  expectations  of  the  witness, 
and  so  not  likely  to  enter  his  mind  except  by  the  actual 
occurrence,  is  of  additional  weight  on  that  account.  So 
the  omission  from  a  story  of  what  would  naturally  oc- 
cur to  a  fabricator,  is  indicative  of  truth. 

(6)  The  Denial  of  Testimony.— To  deny  the  story 
of  a  witness  is  to  believe  that  he  has  invented  it,  or  is 
deluded.     Here  we  need  to  remember  that  belief  and 
disbelief  are  the  same  mental  state  with  regard  to  con- 
tradictory propositions.     The  proper  opposite  of  belief 
3&  doubt,  or  indecision.     To  reject  testimony  is,  there- 
fore, to  affirm  that  some  other  condition  than  truth 
must  be  inferred, — invention,  or  misunderstanding. 

5.  Authority. 

The  opinions  of  competent  men  are  often  used  as 
an  argument,  and  in  this  case  the  argument  is  called 
proof  from  authority.  Authority  is  a  kind  of  sign, 
since  its  existence  supposes  the  truth  of  what  is  as- 
serted as  a  condition  of  the  assertion's  being  made. 
Thus,  in  legal  decisions,  the  ability  and  honesty  of  the 
judge,  and  the  careful  advocacy  of  both  sides  by  com- 
petent lawyers,  assure  us  that  the  decision  would  not 
have  been  what  it  is,  unless  truth  and  law  required  it 


LAWS  OF  IDEA.  119 

to  be  so.  Quotations  from  the  Scriptures,  precedents 
in  law,  the  opinions  of  philosophers,  and  the  decisions 
of  physicians,  are  all  valid  arguments  in  their  respec- 
tive spheres,  because  their  existence  implies  truth  as 
the  condition  of  their  being  what  they  are.  The  mul- 
tiplicity of  facts  and  the  preoccupation  of  men  with 
their  special  lines  of  investigation,  render  authority  a 
chief  source  of  conviction  in  departments  of  thought 
lying  without  our  range  of  personal  observation.  Our 
religious,  political,  and  philosophical  doctrines,  usually 
rest  on  this  kind  of  proof. 

6.  The  Progressive  Argument. 

Another  kind  of  argument  belonging  to  the  class 
culled  sign,  is  "  the  argument  from  progressive  ap- 
proach." It  consists  of  a  series  of  signs,  each  one  of 
which  proves  more  conclusively  than  the  preceding  that 
a  certain  condition  exists.  If  we  roll  a  ball  along  the 
floor,  it  ceases  moving  after  it  has  rolled  a  short  dis- 
tance. We  may  infer  from  the  effect,  that  friction 
and  gravitation  and  the  resistance  of  the  air  retard  it, 
and  that  if  these  retarding  causes  were  removed,  it 
would  roll  on  forever.  We  roll  a  smoother  ball  over 
a  smoother  floor,  and  the  duration  of  its  motion  is  in- 
creased. If  we  continue  to  diminish  the  resistance 
as  much  as  possible,  the  duration  of  the  motion  in- 
creases in  proportion  to  this  diminution.  A  succes- 
-ion  of  signs  satisfies  the  mind  that  if  these  means  of 
rsistance  were  entirely  removed,  a  body  with  a  given 
dioi nen turn  would  move  on  forever  with  un diminished 
velocity.  This  argument  may  be  applied  to  moral  as 
well  as  to  physical  cases.  Bishop  Butler  has  employed 
it  in  the  "  Analogy "  to  show  the  inherent  power  ol 
virtue. 


120  THE  SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

SECTION  III. 
ARGUMENTS  FROM   RESEMBLANCE. 

1.  Nature  of  the  Argument. 

The  argument  from  resemblance  rests  upon  the 
constancy  of  nature.  It  has  no  validity  except  upon 
the  ground  that  what  is  true  in  a  certain  case  or  cases 
will  be  true  in  other  similar  cases.  It  is  evident  that 
this  argument  is  liable  to  great  abuse,  owing  to  the 
difficulty  of  deciding  what  cases  are  essentially  similar. 
If  it  be  true  that  like  cases  are  owing  to  like  causes 
u-nd  produce  like  effects,  it  is  equally  true  that  unlike 
#ases  are  not  referable  to  like  causes,  and  are  not  pro- 
ductive of  like  effects.  Hence  the  value  of  the  argu- 
ment depends  wholly  upon  the  detection  of  essential 
resemblances. 

2.  Essential  Resemblances. 

In  order  to  test  the  validity  of  arguments  founded 
on  resemblance,  we  must  have  some  criterion  by  which 
to  distinguish  between  important  and  unimportant  re- 
semblances. It  is  not  necessary  that  the  cases  should 
correspond  in  every  particular.  Men  may  belong  to 
different  nations,  engage  in  different  pursuits,  and  have 
different  habits  of  life,  yet  they  possess  certain  qualities 
in  common  with  all  men,  and  so  far  as  they  resemble 
one  another  what  is  affirmed  of  one  may  be  affirmed  of 
another.  Sophists  are  ever  ready  with  the  objection 
that  the  cases  differ  in  some  respects.  They  may  differ 
in  all  respects  except  one,  and  still  the  argument  from 
resemblance  maj  be  valid.  Again,  the  cases  may  re- 


LAWS  OF   IDEA.  12l 

gemble  each  other  in  every  particular  except  one,  ami 
still  the  argument  from  resemblance  may  be  invalid. 
The  essential  point  is,  are  the  similar  features  owing 
I  the  same  cause? 

Let  us  take,  for  example,  the  proposition,  "  All 
tyrants  are  selfish."  We  may  adduce  as  an  argument 
the  proposition,  "  Caesar  and  Napoleon  were  selfish." 
Here  the  resemblance  between  "  all  tyrants "  and 
"  Caesar  and  Napoleon"  is  the  basis  of  the  argument. 
Tyrants  may  differ  in  many  personal  qualities,  in  na- 
tionality, and  in  the  age  in  which  they  live.  They  re- 
semble one  another,  however,  in  one  important  point, 
the  desire  of  controlling  others.  If  this  distinctive  point 
of  resemblance  be  referable  to  selfishness  as  its  sole 
cause,  i.e.,  if  tyranny  be  an  effect  of  selfishness,  it  is 
clear  that  all  tyrants  are  selfish,  for  selfishness  is  the 
cause  of  their  being  tyrants.  Arguments  from  re- 
semblance are  but  probable,  for  they  are  valid  only  in 
so  far  as  they  prove  a  common  cause,  but  the  proof  of 
a  cause  is  never  more  than  probable.  The  degree  of 
probability  depends  partly  upon  the  closeness  of  con- 
nection between  the  cause  and  its  effect.  As  in  a  priori 
arguments,  physical  causes  and  effects  are  more  closely 
connected  than  moral  causes  and  effects. 

3.  Example. 

(1)  Nature  of  Example. — Among  the  varieties  of 
argument  founded  upon  resemblance,  the  simplest, 
and,  perhaps,  most  common  is  example.  The  logical 
analysis  of  this  argument  is  as  follows.  We  assume, 
as  a  major  premise,  that  whatever  is  true  of  the  case 
adduced  as  an  example,  is  universally  true  in  like  cases. 
In  the  minor  premise  we  assert  something  to  be  true  in 
6 


122  THE   SCIENCE   OF    RHETORIC. 

the  example.  In  the  conclusion  we  infer  that  what  haa 
been  asserted  is  true  of  all  like  cases.  Using  this  con- 
clusion as  a  major  premise,  we  assert  in  the  minor  that 
in  individual  case  belongs  to  the  class  mentioned  in  the 
major,  and  our  conclusion  is,  that  the  assertion  in  the 
major  applies  to  the  individual  case. 

(2)  Invented  Examples. — Fictitious  cases  are  often 
adduced  as  arguments.     The}7  are  legitimate  in  propor- 
tion to  their  verisimilitude.     Aristotle  cites  an  instance 
of  invented  example  used  by  Socrates,  in  which  the 
latter  shows  the  absurdity  of  choosing  magistrates  by 
lot  by  the  folly  of  selecting  a  pilot  in  the  same  man- 
ner;  since,  if  the  lot  fell  on  an  unskilled  person,  it 
would  probably  result  in  the  loss  of  the  ship.    Although 
only  a  supposed  case,  this  example  has  considerable 
force.     This  force  is  wholly  derived  from  its  general 
truth ;  i.  e.,  it  is  such  a  case  as  might  arise,  and  if  it 
should,  the  relations  of  cause  and  effect  would  be  as 
•represented. 

(3)  Illustrative     Examples.— Examples  are   fre- 
quently used  merely  as   illustrations,  not  to  confirm 
but  to  explain   a   proposition.     Illustrative  examples 
affirm  nothing  more  than  a  resemblance,  argumenta- 
tive examples  affirm  a  common  cause  of  which  the  re- 
semblance is  the  effect.     Hence  it  is  unfair  to  treat 
mere  illustrations  as  if  they  were  designed  as   argu- 
ments.    Fables  and  legends  are  frequently  employed 
as  embellishments  of  discourse,  or  to  explain  the  gen- 
eral meaning.     It  is  sophistical  to  attack  these  as  un- 
real, as  if  the  truth  of  the  main  proposition  depended 
apon  the  truth  of  the  illustrations.     It  is  fair  and  im- 
portant, however,  to  point  out  the  fact  that  these  ex 
planatory  examples  have  no  argumentative  force,  and 


LAWS  OF   IDEA.  123 

should  be  taken,  not  as  instances  of  the  general  truth 
alleged,  but  as  supposed  consequences  of  it.  In  this 
ease  the  truth  of  the  examples  presupposes  the  general 
trutti,  and  hence  it  would  be  arguing  in  a  circle  to 
prove  the  law  from  supposed  instances.  Suppositions 
illustrate,  but  prove  nothing. 

4.  Induction. 

If  we  stop  at  the  general  conclusion  of  the  first  syl- 
logism in  the  illustration  of  example,  the  argument  is 
called  induction.  The  cases  from  which  the  conclu- 
sion is  drawn  may  be  one  or  many,  according  to  the 
nature  of  the  subject-matter.  In  physical  investiga- 
tion,'one  experiment  may  be  sufficient  to  establish  the 
conclusion.  If,  for  example,  a  substance  turns  blue 
litmus  paper  red  at  the  first  trial,  the  chemist  is  satis- 
fied that  the  substance  possesses  acid  properties.  If 
five  men  have  died  in  a  certain  town  on  five  successive 
Saturdays,  it  would  be  a  hasty  inference  to  lay  it  down 
as  certain  that  some  citizen  of  that  town  will  die  on 
every  following  Saturday.  As  in  the  argument  from 
example,  we  must  eliminate  as  far  as  possible  what  is 
accidental,  and  determine  what  is  essential  and  causal 
in  the  similar  cases.  This  is  done  in  several  ways. 

(1)   The  Method  of  Agreement.— When  two  or 

more  phenomena  are  uniformly  associated,  as  a  surface 
colder  than  the  surrounding  air  and  the  production  of 
dew,  we  infer  that  one  of  the  associated  phenomena  is 
the  cause  of  the  other.  There  is  great  danger  of  error 
in  the  use  of  this  method.  Thus  misfortune  and  piety 
may  be  associated  uniformly  in  the  enterprises  of  a 
man,  but  it  would  be  fallacious  to  make  the  one  the 
cause  of  the  other,  on  that  ground  alone. 


124  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

(2)  The  Method  of  Difference  —When  a  phenom- 
cnon  A  is  not  associated  with  a  phenomenon  B,  but  is 
uniformly  associated  with  a  phenomenon  0,  we  may 
infer  that  A  is  caused  by  some  difference  between  15 
and  C.     When  that  difference  lies  in  a  single  particular, 
that  particular  may  be  regarded  as  the  cause  of  A,  if 
it  be  of  a  causal  nature.     If,  for  example,  times  were 
hard  under  one  administration  of  the  government,  and 
prosperous  under  a  new  rule,  with  no  difference  in  the 
state  of  affairs  except  that  a  change  had  been  made  in 
the  financial  system,  the  new  rule  would  properly  be 
regarded  as  the   cause   of    prosperity.     This   is   the 
method  of  difference.     This  also  is  liable  to  sophistical 
uses.     The  failure  to  detect  any  other  difference  than 
the  change  may  be  owing  to  the  limitation  of  our 
faculties  or  our  facilities  for   knowing.     A   common 
laborer  may  be  led  by  a  demagogue  to  attribute  to  a 
new  administration  what  is  really  owing  to  some  other 
cause,  as  a  good  crop,  or  a  demand  for  labor  occasioned 
by  a  new  discovery. 

(3)  The  Method  of  Residues.— If  we  carry  out  the 
method  of  difference  as  far  as  possible  by  removing  one 
condition  after  another  until  one  remains,  we  may  re- 
gard the  remaining  circumstance  as  the  cause.     If  we 
wish  to  find  the  cause  of  a  man's  failure  to  perform  a 
certain  piece  of  work,  we  may  show  that  his  failure  was 
not  for  want  of  help,  for  help  was  given  ;  nor  of  time, 
for  there  was  sufficient  time  ;  nor  of  ability,  for  he  was 
fully  capable  ;  nor  on  account  of  sickness,  for  he  was 
in  good  health ;  nor  because  of  preoccupation,  for  he 
was  at  leisure  ;  nor  from  forge tfulness,  for  he  was  re- 
minded at  the  time  ;  nor  from  indolence,  for  he  was 
fond  of  labor  ;  we  may  infer  that  it  was  very  probably 


LAWS   OF  IDEA.  125 

unwillingness.  This,  however,  cannot  be  inferred 
unless  every  other  equally  probable  supposition  haa 
been  excluded.  This  is  called  the  method  of  residues. 

(4)  The  Method  of  Concomitant  Variations,— If 
now  we  fary  the  circumstances,  so  as  to  produce  grad- 
ations of  a  phenomenon,  we  have  the  method  of  con- 
comitant variations.  If  it  be  shown  that  the  higher 
we  raise  the  temperature  of  a  mass  of  iron  the  more 
space  the  mass  occupies,  we  conclude  that  heat  expands 
iron. 

By  these  methods  we  determine  whether  or  not  a 
particular  fact  exists,  and  whether  or  not  certain  par- 
ticular facts  are  similar.  By  induction  we  infer  that 
these  particular  truths  are  universal.  No  real  induc- 
tion is  formally  valid.  In  affirming  that  what  is  true 
of  a  part  is  true  of  the  whole  we  transcend  our  actual 
knowledge,  and  hence  may  fall  into  error.  The  four 
methods  above  are  intended  to  reduce  this  possible 
error  to  its  minimum. 

5.  Analogy. 

The  argument  from  analogy  is  founded  on  a  re- 
semblance of  relations,  while  ordinary  examples  are 
founded  on  a  direct  resemblance. .  There  is  an  analogy 
between  the  human  heart  and  a  great  city,  and  hence 
it  has  been  argued  that  when  the  size  of  a  city  is  greatly 
increased  its  functions  are  impaired.  The  argument 
for  the  inhabitation  of  the  planets  is  of  this  kind,  since 
they  resemble  the  earth  in  their  general  relations, 
though  not  in  all  particulars.  The  argument  from 
analogy  has  great  force  in  winning  the  assent  of  super- 
ficial thinkers,  but  its  logical  analysis  reveals  the  dan 
-gcr  of  depending  upon  it,  unless  confirmed  by  collat- 
eral proofs. 


126  THE   SCIENCE  OF   RHETORIC. 

SECTION  IV. 
THE  CONDUCT  OF  A  DISCUSSION. 

Argumentation,  unlike  the  other  elementary  forms 
of  discourse,  admits  of  two  sides,  and  implies  mental 
conflict.  The  conduct  of  an  argumentative  discussion 
requires  skill  in  addition  to  a  knowledge  of  the  different 
classes  of  arguments.  We  shall,  therefore,  in  this 
section  consider  those  principles  of  argumentation 
which  govern  the  enforcement  of  our  ideas  when  they 
are  exposed  to  opposition.  This  subject  naturafty  falls 
under  the  following  heads:  (1)  the  PREPARATION  OF  THE 
QUESTION;  (2)  the  INTRODUCTION;  (3)  the  CONFIRMA 

TION    OF    THE   THESIS  ;   and    (4)    REFUTATION.      TllCSC 

will  now  be  treated  in  their  order. 

I.     THE  PREPARATION  OF  THE 
QUESTION. 

1.  Necessity  of  Preparation. 

The  importance  of  attending  to  the  form  of  the 
proposition  to  be  proved  is  equally  great  whether  it  is 
to  be  discussed  affirmatively  and  negatively  by  differ- 
ent persons,  or  is  to  constitute  the  theme  of  a  single 
speaker  or  writer.  It  is  not  necessary  that  the  propo- 
sition be  formally  announced  at  the  beginning.  If  it  be 
offensive  or  insignificant,  its  announcement  should  be 
withheld  until  the  facts  and  arguments  have  removed 
the  prejudices  against  it.  But  if  the  proposition  to  be 
proved  be  laid  down  in  the  author's  mind  in  the  be- 
ginning, and  be  steadily  held  in  view  throughout  the 
liscussion,  it  will  insure  the  absence  of  what  is  irrel- 


LAWS   OF   IDEA.  127 

evant,  and  impart  to  the  whole  train  of  argument  the 
character  of  coherence  and  adaptation. 

2.  Exposition. 

When  the  proposition  is  laid  down,  it  should  be 
carefully  studied,  in  order  to  satisfy  the  mind  that  it 
Is  just  what  is  meant  to  be  asserted,  and  that  we  are 
prepared  to  establish  precisely  this  proposition  and  not 
another  allied  to  it.  Debate  is  frequently  rendered 
unnecessary  by  mere  exposition  ;  the  apprehension  of 
the  real  meaning  putting  the  question  beyond  all 
doubt.  When  the  proposition  is  perfectly  clear,  a 
formal  and  avowed  exposition  of  it  is  unnecessary.  AlJ 
ambiguities  and  special 'senses  should  be  explained  in 
the  beginning.  If  the  proposition  is  to  be  debated,  it 
should  be  stated  in  the  form  of  an  affirmative  resolu- 
tion. The  advocate  of  the  affirmative  assumes  the 
burden  of  proof,  and  until  arguments  are  advanced  in 
confirmation  of  the  proposition,  none  are  needed  in 
refutation.  Much  has  been  written  on  "  presumption 
and  burden  of  proof."  The  simple  and  universal  rule 
on  the  subject  is,  that  the  burden  of  proof  always  lies 
with  the  affirmative.  This  rule  is  founded  on  the  self- 
evident  principle  that  no  one  should  be  bound  to  prove 
a  negative. 

3.  Concession. 

In  the  exposition  of  any  question  it  will  be  seen 
that  there  are  certain  facts  which  both  sides  admit. 
These  should  be  eliminated  from  the  discussion  by  a  con- 
cession of  their  reality.  Silence  is  often  interpreted 
as  concession.  Care  should  be  taken  to  deprive  an  op 
ponent  of  the  right  to  claim  such  a  concession.  A 


128  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

topic  may  be  waived,  with  the  express  promise  to  con- 
sider it  at  another  time.  This  may  properly  be  done, 
AS  it  may  not  be  possible  to  put  the  topic  in  its  true 
light  until  certain  facts  and  arguments  have  been 
•presented.  Sophists  frequently  waive  a  subordinate 
but  important  proposition,  and  evade  any  farther 
consideration  of  it,  or  finally  claim  that  it  is  unne- 
cessary. 

4.  Contrary  Opinions. 

It  is  often  advisable  to  state  contrary  opinions, 
at  the  beginning.  There  are  several  advantages  in  this, 
belonging  to  different  cases.  When  the  only  alterna- 
tive opinion  is  manifestly  absurd,  the  statement  that 
it  is  the  only  alter  native  will  win  favor  for  the  proposi- 
tion maintained.  When  there  are  other  alternatives 
besides  the  one  assumed  by  our  opponent,  a  statement 
of  that  fact  has  the  effect  of  leading  to  the  belief  that 
if  we  are  wrong,  our  opponent  at  least  may  not  be  right. 
Other  theories  may  have  to  be  cleared  away  before  oui 
own  can  be  established.  Burke  begins  his  work  on 
the  "  Sublime  and  Beautiful "  by  showing  that  beauty 
does  not  consist  in  "adaptation,"  "proportion,"  or 
"perfection." 

II.     THE  INTRODUCTION. 
1.  Design  of  an  Introduction. 

An  introduction  is  not  an  essential  part  of  a  com- 
position. Its  very  name  implies  that  it  is  preparatory 
to  something  else,  which  is  complete  in  itself,  but  needs 
to  be  brought  into  relation  with  the  time  and  occasion. 
Hence  Cicero's  rule  was,  to  compose  the  introductior 


LAWS   OF   IDEA.  129 

• 

after  he  had  finished  the  composition.  Mere  general- 
ities are  thus  avoided,  and  the  introduction  is  made 
truly  subservient  to  its  end.  Although  the  attention 
ueeds  to  be  stimulated  less  than  at  any  other  part  of  a 
liscourse,  since  all  attend  to  the  first  few  words,  it  is 
desirable  to  arouse  interest  by  the  character  of  the 
introduction. 

2.  Kinds  of  Introduction. 

Adaptation  to  its  purpose  requires  that  the  intro- 
duction vary  with  the  character  of  the  composition. 
A  few  varieties  are  enumerated  by  Dr.  Whately  which 
readily  suggest  others. 

(1)  Inquisitive. — The  inquisitive  introduction  aims 
to  arouse  interest  by  asking  some  question,  or  showing 
the  importance  of  what  is  to  be  treated. 

(2)  Paradoxical, — When  one  is  perfectly  sure  of  his 
proofs,  it  may  stimulate  interest  to  state  the  conclusion 
to  be  reached  in  some  paradoxical  way,  or  to  represent 
U  as  strange  or  unusual. 

(3)  Corrective. — It  may  be  well   to  show  that  the 
subject  has  been   misunderstood,  neglected,  or  mis- 
represented, and  should  therefore  engage  the  attention. 
This  may  be  dalled  the  corrective  introduction.     It  is 
particularly  appropriate  if  the  subject  be  a  trite  one. 

(4)  Preparatory. — It   is    sometimes   necessary   to 
guard  against  some  mistake,  explain  some  peculiarity 
in  the  discussion,  or  account  for  some  deficiency.     This 
has  been  called  the  preparatory  introduction. 

(5)  Narrative. — It  is  often  desirable  to  Inform  the 
reader  or  hearer  of  some  event,  or  to  describe  some 
state  of  affairs,  necessary  to  be  known  for  the  compre- 
hension of  what  is  to  follow.     All  historical  questions 


130  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

• 

require  an  introduction  of  this  kind.     This  is  the  nar« 
rative  introduction. 

/'  Two  or  more  of  these  forms  may  be  combined. 
III.     CONFIRMATION. 

1.    The  Uses  of  the  Different  Classes  of 
Arguments. 

When  the  thesis  has  been  laid  down,  formally  or 
mentally,  we  need  to  confirm  it  by  such  arguments  as 
are  best  suited  to  its  nature.  The  uses  of  the  various 
arguments  will,  therefore,  now  be  considered. 

(1)  A  Priori. — The  a  priori  argument  is  used  to 
account  for  a  fact,  and  to  establish  futu re  events.     As 
has  been  shown,  we  may  infer  an  effect  from  the  ex- 
istence of  a  cause,  proportionately  to  the  tendency  of 
the  cause  to  produce  the   effect.     In    this  way  past 
events  are  explained,  and  future  events  are  anticipated 

(2)  Sign. — The   argument   from   sign   is  used  to 
establish  a  fact  after  its  occurrence,  or  as  a  genera-- 
truth.    Thus  murder  could  be  proved  by  testimony,  or 
by  circumstantial  signs,  such  as  blood  on  the  hands, 
possession  of  an  identified  weapon,  an  effort  to  conceal 
one's  self,  etc.     A  general  truth  may  be  proved  by 
authority  ;  as,  for  example  a  legal  or  religious  doctrine. 

(3)  Resemblance. — Arguments   from   resemblance 
are  less  certain   than   the  preceding  kinds,  but  often 
quite  as  satisfactory  to  minds  predisposed  to  the  con- 
clusion.    They  are  most  useful  in  showing  the  consis- 
tency of  an  alleged  fact.     Induction  is  the  means  of 
establishing   new  general  truths,  as   in   the  sciences. 
Future  events  are  inferred  from  examples,  but  always 
on  the  assumption  of  a  common  cause  uniformly  acting. 


ULWS  OF  IDEA.  Id 

2.  The  Arrangement  of  Arguments. 

(1)  Importance  of  Arrangement.— As  in  the  mili- 
tary art,  so  in   composition,  arrangement  is   of   the 
greatest  importance.     If  one  were  to  attempt  to  prove 
that  a  miracle  had  been  performed  without  giving  any 
reason  why  it  should  be,  the  proofs  would  need  to  be 
rery  strong  in  order  to  be  satisfactory.     If,  howevei, 
it  be  first  shown  that  a  revelation  might  be  expected 
from  a  benevolent  deity,  and  that  it  could  not  be  con- 
firmed without  miracles,  much  less  proof  would  be 
necessary.     In  the  contest  between  ^Eschines  and  De- 
mosthenes concerning  the  crown,  the  former  requested 
the  judges  to  require  the  latter  to   adopt  the  same 
arrangement  in  his  reply  as  had  previously  been  chosen 
by  his  adversary.     Demosthenes  rightly  claimed  that 
this  demand  was  unfair,  and  chose  his  own  order. 

(2)  Order  of  Arguments  According  to  Kind.— It 
is  plain  that  a  priori  arguments  ought  to  have  the  pre- 
cedence, since  they  render  natural  what  might  other- 
wise seem  improbable.     A  theory  of  the  causes  cannot 
always  be  given,  but  it  is  desirable  that  a  fact  be  ac- 
counted for.     A  posteriori  arguments,  or  positive  proofs 
of  the  facts,  are  then  received  with  less  hesitation.    The 
argument  from  cause  may  not  be  sufficient.     It  does 
not  follow  because  a  phenomenon  might  occur,  that  it 
actually  did  occur.     When  antecedent  probability  has 
been  established  by  arguments  from  cause  to  effect, 
arguments  from  sign  and  resemblance  may  be  added  to 
ghow  that  the  causes  alleged  were  actually  operative, 
and  did  produce  the  alleged  effect. 

(3)  Order  of  Arguments  According  to  Strength.— 

The  most  obvious  arguments  should  come  first,  yet  not 


132  THE  SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

in  such  a  way  as  to  bring  the  ivcalccst  first.  The  Nes- 
torian  arrangement  of  troops,  with  the  weakest  in  the 
middle,  suggests  an  advantageous  order  of  arguments, 
Et  avoids  anti-climax,  and  at  the  same  time  opens  the 
discussion  with  a  strong  argument.  An  inverse  reca- 
pitulation of  the  arguments  also  obviates  the  effect  of 
anti-climax,  when  in  the  original  order  the  weakest 
comes  last.  A  mere  mention  of  the  weak  arguments 
at  the  beginning,  with  the  statement  that  you  do  not 
rely  upon  them  or  mean  to  use  them,  may  often  prove 
effective. 

(4)  Proving  by  Installments. — Sometimes  it  is 

necessary  to  divide  a  proposition  into  several,  and  to 
prove  each  of  these  by  itself.  If  Paley  in  his  Evidences 
had  proceeded  at  once  to  prove  that  we  ought  to  be- 
lieve the  statements  of  the  Scriptures,  his  argument 
would  have  been  unnecessary  in  the  view  of  believers, 
and  probably  inconclusive  in  the  view  of  skeptics.  He 
proves  several  propositions  which  together  establish 
his  main  proposition,  and  thus  the  discussion  is  made 
entertaining  to  believers  and  conclusive  to  many  who 
were  skeptical.  His  successive  propositions  are  as 
follows  : — 

(a)  The  apostles  suffered. 

(5)  They  suffered  knowingly. 

(c)  They  suffered  for  their  testimony. 

(d)  They  testified  to  miracles. 

(e)  The  miracles  were  the  same  as  are  recorded  in  the 
New  Testament. 

IV.     REFUTATION. 

Refutation  consists  in  overthrowing  arguments  ami 
objections  opposed  to  the  thesis  which  we  wish  to  con 


LAWS   OF   IDEA.  13,1 

drm.     Several  particulars  with  reference  to  its  man- 
agement are  of  great  importance. 

1.  Modes  of  Refutation. 

A  conclusion  can  be  combated  in  two  ways  ;  VFG 
may  prove  its  contradictory,  or  we  may  overthrow  the 
arguments  by  which  it  has  been  supported. 

(1)  Proving  the  Contradictory.— Since  contradic- 
tories cannot  both  be  true,  it  is  a  practical  refutation 
of  an  argument  to  prove  the  contradictory  of  its  conclu- 
sion.    This  is  often  easier  than  to  detect  and  exhibit 
the   fault   of   an   opposing   argument.     In   this    way 
writers  who  know  nothing  of  each  other's  works  may 
refute  each  other's  statements.     While  important  am1 
often  sufficient,  this  mode  of  procedure  is  not  specific- 
ally ref  utatory. 

(2)  Overthrowing  Arguments. —Refutation,  in  its 
specific  sense,  means  the  overthrow  of  an  opposing  ar- 
gument.    This  overthrow  may  be  accomplished  in  two 
ways  :  we  may  deny  one  of  the  premises,  or  shoAV  if 
fallacy  in  the  process  of  reasoning. 

We  may  deny  the  premise  when  it  is  false.  The 
false  premise  is  generally  suppressed,  and  the  argu- 
ment stated  as  an  enthymeme.  A  syllogistic  statement 
of  the  argument  will  generally  reveal  the  falsity  of  the 
suppressed  premise,  and  this  may  then  be  pointed  out. 
The  deistic  argument  against  the  divine  authority  oJ 
Moses  may  be  stated  thus: 

Major,  A  divinely  appointed  lawgiver  would  cxjr 
tainly  reveal  the  doctrine  of  immortality  ; 

Minor,' Moses  does  not  mention  it ; 

Conclusion.  Moses  was  not  a  divinely  appointed 
lawgiver. 


134  THE  SCIENCE   OF    RHETORIC, 

The  deistic  argument,  as  stated  ~by  its  advocates. 
suppressed  the  major  premise,  which  was  supplied  by 
Warburton,*  who  denies  its  truth,  and  thus  refutes 
their  argument. 

One  way  of  showing  the  falsity  of  a  premise  is  t« 
make  it  a  premise  of  a  syllogism  in  which  the  othei 
premise  is  an  admitted  truth,  and  hence  to  draw  an 
absurd  conclusion.  This  proves  the  falsity  of  the  pre- 
mise taken  from  the  opposing  argument,  for  in  a  cor- 
rect syllogism  there  is  no  alternative  except  to  deny  a 
premise  or  accept  the'conclusion.  The  conclusion  can- 
not be  accepted  for  it  is  absurd,  the  supplied  premise 
cannot  be  denied  for  it  is  an  admitted  truth  ;  hence 
the  opponent's  premise  must  be  false.  The  conclusion 
of  an  opponent  may  be  made  a  premise  and  proved 
false  in  the  same  manner.  This  is  called  the  indirect 
argument,  or  reductio  ad  absurdum.  It  is  particularly 
adapted  to  controversy  on  account  of  its  irony,  and 
power  to  turn  the  laugh  on  an  opponent.  It  is  said  of 
an  argument  which  can  be  thus  answered,  "  the  argu- 
ment proves  too  much,"  since,  if  true,  absurdities 
would  logically  follow  from  it.  In  his  "  Defence  of 
Natural  Society  by  a  Late  ISToble  Lord,"  Burke,  feign 
ing  to  accept  the  principles  of  Bolingbroke,  makes  th 
arguments  brought  by  the  latter  against  ecclesiastica 
institutions  overthrow  civil  society  as  well,  thus  show- 
ing that  the  arguments  prove  too  much. 

The  detection  of  fallacies  in  the  reasoning  is  a 
purely  logical  process.  If  a  fallacy  exist,  it  will  be 
found  by  running  over  the  list  of  fallacies  given  in 
Logic,  and  testing  the  argument  with  respect  to  each. 
When  the  fallacy  is  seen  the  simplest  refutation  is  the 

*•  Divine  Legation. 


LAWS   OF   IDEA.  135 

construction  of  a  parallel  case  in  which  the  logical  fault 
will  be  evident  to  all. 

2.  Treatment  of  Objections. 

Objections  may  be  offered  which  are  not  exprc 
in  the  form  of  arguments.  In  order  to  exhibit  their 
argumentative  value  they  should  be  thrown  into  a  reg- 
ular syllogistic  form.  If  this  be  impossible,  the  oppo- 
nent may  be  challenged  to  show  the  bearing  of  his 
objection  ;  if  it  be  exhibited  as  a  syllogism,  its  answer 
will  be  more  readily  suggested.  Several  rules  of  a 
special  character  deserve  attention  in  the  treatment  of 
objections. 

(1)  Valid  Objections  on  Both  Sides.— There  may 

be  valid  objections  on  both  sides  of  a  question.  If  two 
armies  are  contending,  one  advocate  may  rightly  urge 
the  superior  skill  of  his  friends,  another  may  claim  the 
superior  equipment  of  his  friends,  as  reasons  why  each 
should  be  victorious^  Both  sides  here  have  reasons  for 
expecting  victory,  both  sides  are  met  with  objections, 
and  no  logic  but  the  logic  of  events  can  decide  between 
the  opposing  claims.  Even  in  physical  science  such 
objections  may  exist  on  both  sides.  There  are  objec- 
tions to  the  infinite 'divisibility  of  matter,  and  objections 
to  the  contradictory  doctrine.  These  difficulties  often 
grow  out  of  the  limitation  of  our  faculties  and  the  re- 
lativity of  our  knowledge.  Aralid  objections  should  be 
candidly  explained  as  referable  to  such  a  deficiency  iu 
OTir  powers  or  our  knowledge. 

(2)  Decisive  Objections. — Objections  to  our  views 
may  be  offered  which  are  not  only  valid,  but  really  de- 
cide the  question  at  issue.     Such  objections  should  bo 
acknowledged  as  final.     It  is  more  expedient,  to  saj 


136  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

nothing  of  the  ethical  quality  of  the  action,  to  acknowl 
edge  error  than  to  resist  palpable  truth.  No  one 
believes  in  our  infallibility  when  we  are  nor,  moved  by 
ijvious  truth,  but  a  confession  of  error  inspires  con- 
fidence in  one's  honesty  of  purpose.  There  is  sometimes 
<\  sophistical  acknowledgment  for  no  other  purpose 
than  the  establishment  of  a  reputation  for  fairness. 

(3)  Statement  of  Objections.— If  objections  are 

not  stated  in  their  full  forcQ,  there  is  danger  of  pro- 
ducing the  opinion  that  we  either  underestimate  the 
full  force  of  the  opposing  statements,  or  are  not  pre- 
pared to  meet  them.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  stil, 
more  unfair,  if  not  so  inexpedient,  to  overstate  objec- 
tions, making  them  appear  to  be  made  against  more 
than  they  really  oppose.  Thus  a  person  who  objects 
to  a  certain  interpretation  of  the  Scriptures  is  often 
represented  as  rejecting  the  authority  of  the  whole 
book.  Those  who  object  to  certain  modes  of  public 
trial  and  punishment  are  sometimes  answered  as  if 
they  rejected  all  administration  of  justice. 

3.  Cautions  concerning  Refutation. 

The  attempt  to  satisfy  other  minds  that  our  ideas 
alone  are  correct  is  attended  with  some  special  dangers. 

(1)  Too  Forcible  Refutation.— A  violent  attack 
upon  some  olgection  or  argument  may  magnify  unduly 
its  importance.     When  a  man  lays  aside  his  coat  and 
makes  great  preparation  for  labor,  it  leads  us  to  sup- 
pose that  he  is  impressed  with  the  magnitude  of  hia 
task.     A  debater  may  easily  give  his  auditors  a  similar 
impression  by  laboring  too  obviously  to  overthrow  an 
objection. 

(2)  Too  Great  Clearness,—  If  any  new  proposition 


LAWS   OF   IDEA.  137 

be  established  too  clearly,  it  may  create  surprise  that 
any  one  could  ever  have  doubted  it,  or  that  wise  men 
should  have  failed  to  discover  it,  or  that  so  able  a  man 
as  your  opponent  could  possibly  dissent  from  it,  and 
hence  it  may  be  concluded  that  there  is  some  subtile 
fallacy  in  your  argument,  which  it  is  difficult  to  detect. 

(3)  Prior  Convictions.— This  will  be  more  likely 
to  be  the  case  if  the  persons  addressed  have  themselves 
strongly   held   the   opinions   controverted.     They  are 
unwilling  to  believe  that  they  have  been  so  long  cm- 
bracing  nonsense  without  knowing  it.     It  is  more  nat- 
ural to  conclude  that  the  speaker  or  writer  is  either 
ignorant  of  some  fact,  or  that  his  argument  is  fal- 
lacious. 

(4)  Accusations. — This  feeling  reaches  its  height 
and  is  accompanied  with   indignation  when  a  direct 
charge  of   criminality  or   imbecility  is   made   against 
those  who  hold  the  opinion  refuted.     Men  who  have 
been  actuated  by  right  motives  in  holding  these  views, 
and  there  are  generally  some  such  in  every  sect  01 
T^arty,  know  the  unfairness  and  untruthfulness  of  these 
charges.     They,  at  least,  die!  not  hold  the  opinions  con- 
demned, from  any  other  thai,  pure  motives,  and  they 
do  not  believe  themselves  wholly  stupid.     They,  there- 
fore, prefer  to  regard  their  calumniator  as  a  foe,  whose 
arguments  they  may  not  answer,  but  whose  conclusions 
they  indignantly  repel. 

(5)  Weak   Arguments. — When  the  arguments  to 
oe  refuted  are  excessively  weak,  it  is  often  difficult  to 
make  them  appear  more  foolish  than  they  seem  to  be, 
without  a  direct  charge  of  absurdity.     As  such  argu- 
ments are  usually  advanced  by  such  persons  as  are  not 
really  convinced  by  them,  but  who  must  say  something, 


138  THE  SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

they  are  .jot  likely  to  convince  any  one  else.     If  they 
arc   answered   by  really  strong   arguments,  they  will 
have  no  force  with  the  candid,  and  to  others  the  most 
uccessful  refutation  will  be  of  small  account,  for 

"  One  convinced  against  his  will, 
Is  of  the  same  opinion  still." 

(6)  Accessible  Authorities. — It  is  generally  best 
to  use  only  those  authorities  which  are  accessible  tc 
the    class    addressed.      Appeals    to  writers    in    other 
languages  and  to  unknown  philosophers  will  have  very 
little  weight,  if  the  opponent  chooses  to  deny  that  the 
citations  apply.     People  holding  different  views  from 
those  maintained  suspect  subtlety  when  a  reasoner  sets 
aside  the  received  translation  of  the    Scriptures,  and 
attempts  to  expound  the  original.     However  necessary 
this  may  be  in  order  to  arrive  at  truth,  this  procedure 
js  looked  upon  as  a  resort  of  one  whose  views  are  not 
confirmed  by  the  received  version,  but  who  can  wrest 
the  original  to  his  purpose  without  the  risk  of  detec- 
tion.   None  but  recognized  scholars  are  safe  in  attempts 
of  this  kind,  and  even  they  are  less  liable  to  miscon- 
struction when  they  are  addressing  those  competent  to 
understand  their  exposition.     These  remarks  are  not 
so  fully  applicable  to  those  who  are  addressing  persons 
who  are  already  convinced. 

(7)  Place  for  Answering  Objections,  —  Whately 

advises  placing  the  answer  of  objections  in  the  middle 
of  the  argument,  but  nearer  the  beginning  than  the 
end.  He  says  on  this  point  :  "If  indeed  very  strong 
objections  have  obtained  much  currency,  or  have  been 
just  stated  by  an  opponent,  so  that  what  is  asserted 
is  likely  to  be  regarded  tispiini'loxic.-al,  it  may  be  ad  vis- 


LAWS  OF  IDEA.  13& 

able  to  begin  with  a  refutation  ;  but  when  this  is  not 
the  case,  the  mention  of  objections  in  the  opening  will 
be  likely  to  give  a  paradoxical  air  to  our  assertion,  by 
implying  a  consciousness  that  much  may  be  said  againsl 
it.  If  again  all  mention  of  objections  be  deferred  to 
the  last,  the  arguments  will  often  be  listened  to  with 
prejudice  by  those  who  may  suppose  us  to  be  overlook- 
ing what  may  be  urged  on  the  other  side.  Sometimes 
indeed  it  will  be  difficult  to  give  a  satisfactory  refuta- 
tion of  the  opposed  opinions,  till  we  have  gone  through 
the  arguments  in  support  of  our  own  ;  even  in  that 
case,  however,  it  will  be  better  to  take  some  brief  no- 
tice of  them  early  in  the  composition,  with  a  promise 
of  afterwards  considering  them  more  fully,  and  refut- 
ing them."* 

»  Rhetoric.    Part  I,  Chap  iii.  g  7. 


BOOK    III. 


LAWS    OF    FORM 


BOOK  III.— LAWS  OF  FORM. 
1.  The  Importance  of  Method. 

IF  the  principles  of  style  were  derived  by  a  more 
philosophical  method,  there  would  be  fewer  sympa- 
thizers with  the  satiric  fling  of  Hudibras, 

"  For  all  a  rhetorician's  rules 
Teach  nothing  but  to  name  his  tools/ 

The  chief  reason  why  so  small  a  value  is  attached 
to  precepts  of  style  is,  that  they  savor  too  much  of 
arbitrary  statement  in  pedantic  forms,  of  which  many 
are  ignorant  who  are  practical  masters  of  the  art  of 
expression.  There  is  a  lack  of  scientific  analysis  and 
co-ordination  in  both  methods  and  precepts.  As  a 
consequence  there  is  a  prevalent  skepticism  concerning 
the  value  of  rhetorical  studies.  The  fact  that  a  pas- 
sage is  pleasing  does  not  entitle  it  to  legislate  for  all 
similar  compositions.  It  must  first  be  shown  why  it  is 
pleasing,  and  wliat  in  it  is  pleasing.  We  must  not  sup- 
pose that  a  form  of  expression  is  good  because  it  has 
fortuitously  been  made  the  medium  of  revealing  a 
noble  sentiment,  or  an  original  thought.  Scientific 
analysis  must  so  dissect  its  specimens  as  to  show 
whether  it  is  the  idea  or  the  form  which  delights  us, 
and  luliy  it  delights  us.  We  Have  been  taught  that 
"figures  of  speech  are  ornamental "  and  "impart  vi- 
vacity to  the  expression."  Writers  on  style  have 
classified  figures  by  imposing  upon  us  a  cumbrous 
and  useless  nomenclature,  but  seldom  explain  ivhy 
they  contribute  force  to  language.  The  truths  dog- 
matically embodied  in  such  rules  as  "Use  short  sei> 


144  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

tences,"  "  Avoid  long  parentheses/'  "Use  Saxon  rather 
than  Latin  words/'  would  gain  a  new  power  over  our 
minds  if  they  were  derived  from  fundamental  prin- 
ciples of  mind  and  language,  and  grouped  according  to 
a  scientific  ordination.  As  the  law  of  gravitation,  so 
simple  and  yet  so  important,  explains  all  the  phe- 
nomena of  celestial  motion,  so  there  must  be  some 
principle  underlying  the  effects  of  language  upon  the 
mind,  some  general  law  of  expression,  which  will 
explain  the  phenomena  of  style. 
2.  The  Process  of  Interpreting  a  Sentence. 

As  a  general  law  must  be  operative  in  every  sen- 
tence, we  must  expect  to  find  such  a  law  in  what  is 
most  central  and  necessary  in  converting  a  sentence 
into  thought,  or  interpreting  its  meaning.  In  this 
process  we  perform  certain  acts  and  have  certain  feel- 
ings. These  acts  are  as  follows. 

(1)  Exercise  of  Preservative  Power,  —  In  the 

communication  of  a  word,  something  from  without  is 
obtruded  upon  the  attention  through  the  external 
senses.  The  mind  is,  however,  occupied  with  its  own 
processes.  If  those  processes  are  very  absorbing,  as  in 
persons  given  to  abstraction  and  deep  reflection,  the  at- 
tention is  not  readily  attracted.  If  the  processes  are  of 
small  subjective  interest,  as  generally  in  young  and  non- 
reflecting  persons,  a  very  slight  cause  is  sufficient  to  at- 
tract the  attention  ;  but,  for  this  very  reason,  it  cannot 
be  long  retained.  From  these  facts  it  is  evident  tha 
the  perception  of  a  sight  or  sound  is  an  act  of  the  mind 
requiring  the  exercise  of  its  powers.  When  we  rend 
or  hear  a  sentence,  a  certain  amount  of  presentative 
power  is  necessary  to  put  its  separate  elements  before 
the  mind. 


LAWS   OF  FORM".  145 


(2)  Exercise  of  Conservative  Power.— Language, 

written  or  spoken,  depends  upon  time.  When  we  look 
at  a  picture,  the  eye  receives  simultaneously  rays  from 
ftl I  points  of  its  surface,  and  these  form  a  single  image, 
which  the  mind  receives  as  one.  When  we  read  or 
hear  a  sentence,  the  mind  receives  through  the  eye  or 
car  certain  signs  of  ideas,  not  simultaneously,  but  iu 
succession.  Supposing  each  word  to  suggest  to  the 
mind  a  distinct  conception,  as  it  must  to  be  of  any 
value  to  the  sentence,  the  conception  conveyed  by  the 
first  word  receives  a  modification  from  every  additional 
word.  The  mind  must  put  forth  a  new  effort  with 
every  added  syllable,  to  perceive  it  and  introduce  it  tc 
the  attention.  At  the  same  time  it  must  hold  the 
syllables  already  perceived  for  comparison  and  union 
Arith  those  that  follow.  Here  is  a  duplex  act  of.  mem- 
ory :  first,  to  recall  the  significance  of  each  word  as  it 
is  perceived  ;  and,  secondly,  to  retain  both  the  sign  and 
the  thing  signified  until  the  period  is  ended,  so  that  all 
the  modifications  may  be  made.  Here  is  an  expendi- 
ture of  conservative  power. 

(3)  Exercise  of  Representative  Power.— As  the 

jsigns  of  thought  are  introduced  into  the  mind  they,  if 
familiar,  readily  suggest,  or,  if  strange,  totally  fail  to 
suggest,  that  which  they  are  designed  to  represent. 
Imagination,  by  its  magical  power,  combines  these  iso- 
lated fragments  of  ideas  into  complete  wholes.  Here 
is  another  expenditure  of  power,  a  representative 
power, — we  may  almost  call  it  an  architectural  power, 
framing  together  materials  which  another  mind  has  cut 
and  fitted,  so  as  to  construct  within  our  own  conscious- 
ness the  edifice  which  another  has  first  built  in  his. 

(!)  Exercise  of  Realizing  Power.— The  mind  IB 

7 


146  THE   SCIENCE   OF  EHETOKIC. 

now  in  possession  of  the  idea  as  a  whole,  or,  more 
strictly,  of  its  own  conception  of  the  idea  meant  to  be 
expressed.'  Three  distinct  acts  have  been  performed, 
and  yet  the  mind  is  not  assured  of  the  truth  or  falsity 
of  the  statement.  In  order  to  decide  this,  the  assertion 
must  be  compared  with  the  stock  of  ideas  previously 
acquired  by  experience  or  instruction.  If  the  imago 
presented  in  the  sentence  be  designed  to  arouse  emo- 
tion, the  conception  must  be  contemplated,  in  order  to 
elicit  the  desired  feeling.  These  two  processes,  com- 
paring and  contemplating,  require  n  new  expenditure 
of  power,  which  we  may  call  the  power  of  realization. 

3.  Deduction  of  the  General  Law  of  Style. 

(1)  Economy  of  Interpreting  Power.— The  inter- 
pretation of  a  sentence  requires  an  expenditure  of  men- 
tal power,  and  the  realization  of  the  idea  demands  the 
use  of  more.     Since  the  mind  possesses  but  a  limited 
amount  of  power  at  any  one  time  available,  it  is  clear 
that  the  more  we  expend  in  interpreting  a   sentence, 
•i.  e.,  in  translating  it  into  thought,  the  less  we  have 
available  for  realizing  the  idea.     But  realization  is  the 
end  of  communication  -;  hence  the  less  power  required 
to  interpret  a  sentence,  the  more  excellent  it  is  as  a 
mode  of  expression. 

(2)  Economy  of  the  Feelings.— But,  apart  from 

the  effect  of  the  idea  upon  the  feelings,  the  form  of 
expression  produces  an  effect.  If  a  beautiful  idea  is 
expressed  in  harsh  and  rude  words,  it  is  plain  that  the 
resultant  feeling  will  be  less  agreeable  in  proportion  te 
the  amount  of  sensitive  power  wasted  on  the  form  of 
words.  In  other  terms,  if  ten  represent  the  degree  of 
t<l  miration  which  the  idea  by  itself  is  capable  of  ex- 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  14? 

citing,  and  three  the  degree  of  aversion  which  the 
words  excite,  the  resultant  feeling  of  admiration  will 
be  only  seven-tenths  of  what  it  would  be  if  the  form  of 
words  did  not  detract  from  it.  Hence  the  necessity  of 
economizing  the  power  of  feeling. 

(3)  Summary. — To  sum  up  our  results,  we  find  as 
the  prominent  fact  of  our  analysis,  that  the  interpreta- 
tlon  of  language  requires  acts  and  produces  feelings. 
Each  of  these  acts  and  feelings  requires  the  exercise  of 
power.  The  mind  possesses  at  any  one  moment  but  a 
limited  amount  of  available  power.  The  object  of  ex- 
pression is  the  realization  of  ideas.  This  realization 
also  requires  an  exercise  of  power.  Since  the  power  of 
the  mind  is  divided  bet  ween  interpretation  and  realiza- 
tion, the  most  general  law  of  style  is  : 

THAT  FORM  OF  LANGUAGE  is  MOST  EXCELLENT 

WHICH  YIELDS  ITS  CONTAINED  IDEA  WITH  THE  LEAST 
EXPENDITURE  OF  MENTAL  POWER. 

The  simplicity  of  this  law  does  not  diminish  its» 
value,  for  it  is  neither  more  simple  nor  more  general 
tnan  Aristotle's  dictum  .in  Logic.  A  comparative 
statement  of  the  law  is  necessary,  since  no  style  can  be 
absolutely  perfect.  Any  form  of  expression  requires 
the  expenditure  of  some  power.  As  in  machinery  per- 
fection consists  in  reducing  the  friction  to  the  mini- 
mum, not  in  annihilating  it,  which  is  impossible,  so  in 
expression  the  highest  attainable  excellence  is  but 
relative. 

4.   Apparent  Exceptions. 

(1)  Intentional  Obscurity.— There  are  occasions 
when  the  design  is  to  obscure  the  sense.  This  is  the 
case  when  one  is  compelled  tc  speak  and  desires  to  con- 


148  THE  SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

coal  his  real  sentiments  ;  when  time  is  to  be  occupied 
in  discussing  a  question  upon  which  one  has  little  tc 
gay,  and  yet  does  not  wish  to  appear  to  wander  from 
liis  subject ;  when,  as  in  the  Delphian  oracles,  two  in- 
terpretations are  intentionally  made  possible  so  that 
unknown  occurrences  may  not  furnish  contradictions  ; 
where  one  aims  to  appear  profound  when  perspicuity 
would  reveal  his  superficiality.  Of  such  a  composer 
Pope  says  : 

"  Of  darkness  visible  so  much  he  lent, 
As  half  to  show,  half  veil  the  deep  intent." 

(2)  Excessive  Perspicuity. — Complaint  is  some- 
times made  against  language  being  too  perspicuous,  as 
when  a  writer  presents  a  plain  thought  in  an  infinite 
number  of  lights.  In  such  cases  the  complaint  is  im- 
properly directed,  for  it  lies  more  against  the  thought 
than  against  the  style.  To  such  a  writer  we  might 
apply,  with  Campbell,  Bassanio's  description  of  Grati- 
ano's  conversation  : 

"  He  speaks  an  infinite  deal  of  nothing.  His  rea- 
sons are  as  two  grains  of  wheat  hid  in  two  bushels  of 
chaff ;  you  shall  seek  all  day  ere  you  find  them ; 
and  when  you  have  them  they  are  not  worth  the 
search. " 

While,  then,  for  exceptional  and  generally  unwor- 
thy purposes,  it  may  be  desirable  to  overtax  the  inter- 
preting powers,  in  order  to  diminish  the  power  of  re- 
alization, true  excellence  of  style  consists  in  the 
strictest  economy  of  them.  Our  object  is  not  to  show 
how  style  may  be  made  usefully  bad,  but  why  it  it 
good. 


LAWS  OF  FORM.  149 

6.  The  Composer's  Powers  not  to  be 

Economized, 

Our  general  law  of  style  regards  the  economy  ol 
mental  power  on  the  part  of  the  interpreter  as  the  great 
aim  of  expression.  It  should  not  be  supposed  that  the 
composer's  powers  are  to  be  economized.  He  who 
would  attain  perfect  clearness  and  accuracy  of  expres- 
sion must  be  prodigal  of  his  own  powers,  and  so  use 
them  as  to  leave  the  least  possible  labor  to  the  inter- 
preter. It  may  be  useful  to  remember  that  all  the 
confessed  masters  of  expression  have  been  lavish  of 
their  toil.  The  aspirant  after  literary  honors  should 
recollect  that  Demosthenes  spent  three  months  toiling 
by  a  dim  lamp  in  a  subterranean  study,  while  elaborat- 
ing and  retouching  a  single  oration  ;  that  Virgil  pro- 
nounced the  "  ^Eneid  "  imperfect,  after  eleven  years  oi 
labor  on  it ;  that  Tasso's  manuscript  was  almost  ille- 
gible with  corrections ;  that  Pascal  sometimes  spent 
twenty  days  on  a  single  one  of  those  famous  "  Provincial 
Letters"  which  even  Voltaire  called  "one  of  the  best 
books  ever  published  in  France."  'Nor  should  it  be 
forgotten,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the  nameless  multi- 
tude of  those  whom  oblivion  has  buried  were  too  indo- 
lent or  too  hasty  "  to  file  off  the  mortal  part  of  glow- 
ing thought  with  Attic  art." 

6.  Division  of  the  Subject. 

The  general  law  of  style  at  which  we  have  arrived 
is  a  Universal  principle  by  which  to  test  expression,  and 
from  which  all  the  minor  laws  of  form  may  be  deduced. 
The  work  before  us  is  simply  to  apply  this  general  law  to 
the  specific  cases  which  may  arise,  and  to  show  how  in 


150  THE   SCIENCE  OF   RHETORIC. 

each  case  mental  power  may  be  economized.  The  laws 
of  form  will  therefore  be  stated  in  the  following  divis- 
ions ;  (1)  the  economy  of  interpreting  power  in  PLAIN 
language;  (2)  the  economy  of  interpreting  power  in 
FIGURATIVE  language ;  and  (3)  the  economy  of  the 

FEELINGS. 


THE  ECONOMY    OF    INTERPRETING  POWER 
IN   PLAIN   LANGUAGE. 

1.  The  Conditions  of  Sentential  Structure. 

WE  arc  brought  face  to  face  with  the  most  difficult 
problems  of  style  when  we  consider  the  nature  of  a 
sentence.  Our  embarrassment  is  increased  by  the  fact 
that  most  of  the  text-book  statements  about  the  sen- 
tence totally  miss  the  real  difficulty  of  its  mechanism. 
Before  we  attempt  to  define  the  laws  of  sentential 
structure,  let  us  pause  to  examine  the  conditions  upon 
which  they  depend. 

(1)  The  Time-relation. — Words   convey  ideas  in 

lime,  and  a  conception  can  be  obtained  from  language 
only  by  successive  increments.  Since  a  proposition  is 
neither  true  nor  of  any  force  to  the  mind  until  it  is 
completed,  this  time-relation  presses  a  claim  to  con- 
densation. Hence  the  maxim,  "Brevity  is  the  soul  of 
wit.''  For  if  it  require  several  seconds  to  effect  the 
revelation  of  a  single  idea,  the  beginning  is  lost  before 
the  end  is  reached,  and  but  a  fragment  of  the  idea  is 
conveyed. 

(2)  The  Truth-relation. — But  condensation  to  the 
last  degree  can  be  attained  only  by  the  omission  of  the 
qualifying  words  and  clauses  which  explicate  the  idea 


152  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

The  time -relation  is,  therefore,  constantly  drawing  us 
into  general  and  hence  in  exact  statements.  The  truth- 
relation,  however,  urges  in  the  opposite  direction,  de- 
manding the  insertion  of  limitations  and  exceptions. 
In  the  affairs  of  daily  life,  general  statements  are  seldom 
true.  In  mathematics  general  statements  prevail  ; 
hence  the  brevity  and  logical  simplicity  of  geometrical 
theorems. 

2.  The  Style  of  Legal  Acts. 

In  legal  acts,  innumerable  qualifications  and  limita- 
tions are  needed,  in  order  to  make  the  statement  strictly 
represent  the  intention  of  the  law-maker.  "Instead 
of  laying  down  a  general  proposition,  which  is  partially 
false  until  it  has  received  its  proper  restraints,  the 
framer  of  the  act  endeavors  to  evade  even  this  mo- 
mentary falsehood  by  coupling  the  restraints  with  the 
very  primary  enunciation  of  the  truth  :  e.  g.  A  shall  be 
entitled,  provided  always  that  he  is  under  the  circum- 
stances of  e,  or  i,  or  o,  to  the  right  of  X.  Thus  even  a 
momentary  compliance  with  the  false  notion  of  an  ab- 
solute unconditional  claim  to  JTis  evaded."  *  Embar- 
rassed by  the  confusion  resulting  from  this  endless  in- 
volution of  limitations,  so  acute  a  lawyer  and  compe- 
tent a  scholar  as  Mr.  Pitt  confessed  that  he  was  lost  in 
a  labyrinth  of  clauses,  so  that  he  could  not  understand 
what  the  law  allowed,  and  what  it  prohibited. 

3.  National  Types  of  Style. 

The  tendency  to  yield  to  one  or  the  other  of  these 
opposing  influences,  time  and  truth,  marks  the  distinc- 
tion of  national  styles  of  writing. 

*  De  Quincey. 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  153 

(1)  The  German  Style.— -The  Germans,  a  race  ot 
patient  thinkers,  are  controlled  chiefly  by  the  truth- 
relation    in   the  construction   of   sentences.     Mr.    Do 
Quincey  thus  describes  a  German  sentence  : 

"Every  German  regards  a  sentence  in  the  light  of 
a  package,  and  a  package  not  for  the  mail-coach,  but 
for  the  wagon,  into  which  his  privilege  is  to  crowd  as 
much  as  he  possibly  can.  Having  framed  a  sentence, 
therefore,  he  next  proceeds  to  pack  it,  which  is  ef- 
fected partly  by  unwieldy  tails  and  codicils,  but  chiefly 
by  enormous  parenthetic  involutions.  All  qualifica- 
tions, limitations,  exceptions,  illustrations,  are  stuffed 
and  violently  rammed  into  the  bowels  of  the  principal 
proposition.  That  all  this  equipage  of  accessories  is 
not  so  arranged  as  to  assist  its  own  orderly  develop- 
ment, no  more  occurs  to  a  German  as  any  fault,  than 
that  in  a  package  of  shawls  or  carpets,  the  colors  and 
patterns  are  not  fully  displayed.  To  him  it  is  sufficient 
that  they  are  there.  And  Mr.  Kant,  when  he  has  suc- 
ceeded in  packing  up  a  sentence  which  covers  three 
closely  printed  octavo  pages,  stops  to  draw  his  breath 
with  the  air  of  one  who  looks  back  upon  some  brilliant 
and  meritorious  performance." 

(2)  The  French  Style, — The  French,  on  the  other 
hand,  a  quick,  impatient  people,  are  most  influenced 
by  the  time-relation.     The  result  is  an  almost  monot- 
onous brevity  of  sentences.     "A  long  or  involved  sen- 
tence," says  the  critic  last  quoted,  "could  not  be  pro- 
luced  from  French  literature,  though  a  sultan  should 
offer  his  daughter  in  marriage  to  the  man  who  should 
find  it." 

(3)  The  English  Style. — As  the  mixture  of  Nor- 
man-French and  Teutonic  blood  gives  an  intermediite 

7* 


154  THE   SCIENCE   OF    RHETORIC. 

character  to  the  English  people,  so  the  average  Er.glish 
sentence  lies  midway  between  the  extremes.  The  tend- 
ency, under  the  influence  of  German  literature,  is  to- 
ward a  Teutonic  length  and  involution. 

4.  The  Equilibrium  of  these  Forces. 

The  most  frequently  recurring  and  perplexing  prob- 
lem of  style  is,  to  adjust  the  equilibrium  between  these 
two  forces,  the  contracting  and  the  expanding.  Con- 
densing the  sentence  too  much,  we  violate  truth  by 
omitting  details  and  ignoring  limitations.  Expanding 
too  much,  we  render  the  interpretation  of  the  sentence 
impossible  by  forcing  upon  the  mind  more  labor  than 
it  can  perform.  A  reader  may,  indeed,  recur  to  the 
beginning,  if  he  be  conscious  of  failing  to  grasp  the 
thought  fully,  while  a  hearer  has  not  this  privilege. 
On  this  account,  the  expansion  of  sentences  is  more 
allowable  when  they  are  written  than  when  they  are 
spoken  ;  but  readers  generally  are  not  willing  to  read 
a  sentence  more  than  once.  Hence  the  habit  of  "  read- 
ing short,"  i.  e.,  of  pitching  upon  terms  instead  of  fol- 
lowing out  propositions.  Many  persons  read  as  Mr. 
Dickens  makes  Alfred  Jingle  talk, — selecting  the 
aouns  and  adjectives,  and  neglecting  everything  else. 
Even  when  a  reader  notes  every  word,  he  is  often  un- 
conscious of  how  much  he  misses. 

The  opposition  of  these  two  forces  creates  a  diffi- 
culty in  style  which  cannot  be  wholly  removed,  but 
which  may  be  diminished.  The  problem  is,  then,  not 
how  to  annihilate  the  difficulty,  but  how  to  reduce  it 
to  its  minimum.  This  must  be  done  by  a  judicious 
balance  of  the  claims  of  the  time  and  the  truth  re- 
lations. 


LAWS   OP  FORM.  165 

5.  Division  of  the  Subject. 

We  have  then  to  inquire,  on  what  do  eco.  oniy  of 
Lime  and  fullness  of  meaning  depend  ?  EcoLomy  of 
time  obviously  depends  on  (1)  the  length  of  words,  an  1 
(2)  their  number.  Fullness  of  meaning  depends  on  (1) 
khv  familiarity,  (2)  the  inclusion,  (3)  the  implication, 
(4)  the  position  of  words,  and  (5)  the  relation  of  each 
word  to  the  idea  as  a  whole.  It  will  be  observed  that 
length,  familiarity,  inclusion,  and  implication,  are 
properties  of  single  words,  while  their  number,  position 
and  relation  have  reference  to  words  in  combination. 
Since  these  are  all  the  properties  possessed  by  words 
either  singly  or  in  combination  affecting  either  time  or 
truth,  it  is  plain  that  we  shall  most  easily  and  accu- 
rately discover  the  requirements  of  expression  by 
finding  in  what  manner  each  property  is  related  to  the 
general  law  of  style,  the  economy  of  mental  power. 
\Ve  proceed,  therefore,  to  consider  (1)  DICTION,  or 
the  Choice  of  Words,  and  (2)  SENTENCES,  or  the  Com- 
bination of  Words. 

SECTION  I. 
DICTION,  OR  THE  CHOICE  OF  WORDS. 

L     FAMILIARITY. 

1.  Reasons  for  Familiarity. 

The  first  essential  of  any  sign  used  to  convey  an 
idea,  is  that  the  sign  be  recognized  as  representing  a 
certain  object,  act  or  relation.  Upon  our  familiarity 
with  a  word  all  its  value  as  a  sign  of  an  idea  depends. 


156  T£E  SCIENCE  OF  RHETOKIC. 

We  can,  indeed,  sometimes  guess  the  meaning  of  a 
sentence  when  only  a  part  of  the  words  are  known. 
The  fact  that  all  strange  words  are  of  little  or  no  value 
to  the  communication  of  an  idea,  is  shown  by  our  ex 
perience  in  learning  a  foreign  language.  When  wt 
know  only  a  few  words,  the  page  means  almost  nothing 
to  us  ;  when  we  learn  the  meaning  of  a  few  more,  the 
sense  begins  to  dawn  :  but  when  we  attach  the  true 
meaning  to  all,  the  idea  is  caught  as  the  eye  passes 
over  the  page.  Apart  from  the  signification,  famil- 
iarity has  much  to  do  with  our  power  to  put  the  form 
of  the  word  before  the  mind.  Beginners  in  a  foreign 
language  confound  similar  forms,  and  find  great  diffi- 
culty in  pronouncing  names.  A  strange  word  taxes 
every  mental  power,  as  may  be  seen  by  experiment. 
The  sentence,  "  He  approached  with  the  utmost  frai- 
cheur"  would  be  unintelligible  to  most  English  readers. 
They  would  be  compelled  to  pause  painfully  and  fruit- 
lessly upon  it,  and  finally  leave  it  without  deriving  its 
content. 

2.  Aristotle's  Opinion. 

Aristotle  defends  the  use  of  strange  words,  and 
especially  the  use  of  words  in  new  senses,  for  ornament. 
He  says  in  his  "Rhetoric,"  "Men  are  affected  in  re- 
spect to  style,  in  the  very  same  way  as  they  are  toward 
foreigners  and  citizens.  On  which  account  you  should 
give  your  phrase  a  foreign  air  ;  for  men  are  admirers 
of  things  out  of  the  way,  and  what  is  an  object  of  ad- 
miration is  pleasant."  *  If  admiration  be  the  end  of 
writing,  Aristotle's  advice  should  be  followed ;  but 
since  men  understand  and  confide  in  their  own  coun 

*  Rhetoric,  B.  IIL  C.  ii.  §  2, 3. 


LAW3   OF   FORM.  157 

trymcn  more  readily  than  foreigners,  there  is  a  stronger 
reason  for  rejecting  strange  words.  Aristotle  himself 
says  in  his  "  Poetic/'  "  Foreign,  metaphorical  and  orna- 
mental words  will  cause  diction  to  be  neither  vulga: 
nor  mean  ;  but  proper  [familiar]  words  produce  per- 
spicuity." *  He  still  more  clearly  states  the  effect  of 
familiar  words  :  "  Words  of  ordinary  use,  and  in  their 
original  application,  and  metaphors,  are  alone  available 
in  the  style  of  prose  ;  a  proof  that  this  is  a  fact  is,  that 
these  are  the  only  words  which  all  persons  employ  ;  for 
everybody  carries  on  conversation  by  means  of  meta- 
phors, and  words  in  their  primary  sense,  and  those  of 
ordinary  use."  f  This,  he  adds,  conduces  to  clearness, 
and  he  has  defined  excellence  of  style  as  consisting  in 
its  being  clear. 

3.  The  Barbarism. 

Opposed  to  familiarity  is  the  barbarism.  A  word  may 
oc  a  barbarism  because  of  its  relation  to  time  or  to  place. 

(1)  Barbarisms  from  Time. — The  first  class  in- 
cludes words  not  familiar  to  the  generation  to  which 
the  writer  belongs.  These  are  (1)  obsolete  words,  or 
such  as  were  once  in  good  use,  but  have  ceased  to  be 
living  constituents  of  the  language  ;  and  (2)  newly 
coined  words,  or  such  as  have  not  received  the  sanction 
of  time.  Pope  has  formulated  the  rhetorical  law  on 
kL:s  subject  in  this  well-known  stanza  : 

"  In  words  as  fashions  the  same  rule  will  hold, 
Alike  fantastic  if  too  new  or  old  : 
Be  not  the  first  by  whom  the  new  are  tried, 
Nor  yet  the  last  to  lay  the  old  aside."  \ 

•  Poetic,  xxii,  3.  f  Rhetoric,  B.  III.  0.  ii.  §  fc 

J  Essay  on  Criticism,  Part  I. 


158  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

(2)  Barbarisms  from  Place. — The  barbarism  em- 
braces also  words  which  are  not  familiar  in  all  places 
where  the  language  is  written.  These  are  (1)  foreign 
words,  which  the  semi-educated  are  always  introducing 
into  their  writings  and  conversation,  as  a  proof  of  their 
learning  ;  (2)  provincialisms,  often  unconsciously  used 
!>y  those  who  suppose  their  local  terms  to  be  generally 
known  to  those  who  speak  the  same  language  ;  and  (3) 
technical  terms  belonging  to  special  arts  and  sciences. 

4.  When  Barbarisms  are  Allowable. 

(1)  Dialectic  Compositions. — A  proper  exception 
to  the  principle  of  avoiding  foreign  and  local  expres- 
sions is  found  in  dialectic  composition,  where  the  ob- 
ject is  to  illustrate  the  peculiarities  of  speech,  or  to 
render  a  character  consistent  with  his  surroundings. 

(2)  Technical  Persons. — The  use  of  technical  terms 
contributes  to  clearness  and  accuracy  when  they  are 
addressed  to  those  who  are  familiar  with  them.     The 
very  fact  that  a  word  is  technical  excludes  from  it  a 
host  of  irrelevant  associations  usually  conveyed  by  com- 
mon   words,    and    so   renders   it   more   precise.     Dr. 
Campbell  says  of  them,  "In  strict  propriety,  technical 
words  should  not  be  considered  as  belonging  to  the 
language  ;  because  not  in  current  use,  nor  understood 
by  the  generality  even  of  readers."*     Mr.  Marsh  ob- 
serves on  the  representation  of  technical  characters  : 
"It  is  better  that  a  character  in  a  play  should  use 
professional  phrases,  by  way  of  indicating  his  occupa- 
tion, than  that  he  should  tell  the  audience  in  set  worde 

'  I  am  a  merchant,  a  physician,  or  a  lawyer,'  but  aftet 

*  Campbell's  Philosophy  of  Rhetoric. 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  159 

all,  considered  as  a,  representation  of  the  actual  lan- 
guage of  life,  it  is  a  violation  of  truth  of  costume  to 
rram  with  technical  words  the  conversation  of  a  tech 
aical  man."  * 

5.  The  Law  of  Use. 

Horace  declared  use  to  be  the  law  and  rule  of  speak- 
.ug.  Dr.  Campbell  has  discussed  this  criterion  of 
speech  with  great  judgment.  His  essay  on  the  subject 
is  worthy  of  universal  attention,  f  He  defines  author- 
itative usage  to  be, 

I.  Reputable)   or   the   practice   of  intelligent  and 
educated  writers ; 

II.  National)  as  opposed  to  provincial  and  foreign 

III.  Present)  or  the  usage  of  the  generation  in  which 
one  lives. 

6.  The  Formation  of  New  Words. 

New  ideas  require  the  formation  of  new  words. 
All  verbal  innovations,  however,  have  not  the  same 
justification.  Horace  defines  the  proper  occasion  of 
coining  words  in  these  lines  : 

"  If  you  write  of  things  abstruse  or  new, 
Some  of  your  own  inventing  may  be  used. 
So  it  be  seldom  and  discreetly  done."  { 

If  words  must  be  coined,  it  should  be  "discreetly 
done,'7  so  that  they  shall  conform  to  the  established 
usage  of  the  language,  both  as  to  their  sources  and  the 
union  of  their  elements.  This  is  what  Horace  mean* 
u  these  lines  : 

*  Lectures  on  the  English  Language. 

f  Philosophy  of  Rhetoric,  Book  II.,  Chap.  L 

$  liosconiinon's  Translation. 


160  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

"  An  undisputed  power 
Of  coining  money  from  the  rugged  ore, 
Nor  less  of  coining  words,  is  still  confest, 
If  vpith  a  legal  public  stamp  imprest."  * 


Quin  tilian  disfavors  all  verbal  innovations.  UI1 
the  new  word  is  well  received,"  says  he,  "small  is  the 
glory  ;  if  rejected,  it  raises  laughter."  f 

II.     LENGTH. 

1.  Disadvantages  of  Jjong  Words, 

(1)  Difficulty  of  Perceiving  them,—  Another  qual- 
ity of  words  which  deserves  attention  in  their  selection 
is  length.  Whether  addressed  to  the  eye  or  to  the  ear, 
long  words  require  more  effort  to  present  them  to  the 
mind  for  cognition  than  short  ones.  If  they  are  ad- 
dressed to  the  eye,  the  mind  must  pass  through  a  process 
of  syllabication,  in  order  to  distinguish  them  from  other 
forms  but  slightly  different.  This  is,  doubtless,  an 
almost  unconscious  process  with  those  who  are  accus- 
tomed to  read  much,  but  it  is  illustrated  in  the  efforts 
of  those  who  are  beginning.  Two  words  very  nearly 
alike  can  be  distinguished  only  by  attention  to  the  dif- 
ferentiating letter  or  letters,  and  this  attention  is 
necessary  upon  each  syllable.  If  the  word  is  addressed 
to  the  car,  the  same  is  true,  with  only  a  slight  differ- 
ence. Every  polysyllabic  word  has  one  primary  accent 
which  gives  unity  to  the  word,  forcing  upon  the  atten- 
tion by  a  vocal  stress  one  syllable  which  serves  as  a 
nucleus  around  which  other  syllables  hang  as  mere 
appendages.  The  syllables  which  are  subordinate  it 

*  Francis*  Translation.  f  Institutes,  I,  5 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  161 

sound  are  not  always  subordinate  in  sense.  In  the 
word  demonstrate)  the  specific  meaning  is  determined, 
not  by  the  accented  syllable,  but  by  a  single  letter  la 
the  very  subordinate  syllable  de,  and  is  distinguished 
from  that  of  remonstrate  only  by  the  initial  letter,  d, 
instead  of  r  Most  polysyllabic  words  have  several 
phonetic  analogues  from  which  they  are  distinguished 
only  by  a  subordinate  syllable.  It  is  evident,  there 
fore,  that  they  do  not  economize  the  power  of  percep- 
tion as  much  as  short  words. 

(2)  Difficulty  of  Remembering  them.— They  often 
prove  too  much  for  the  memory  also,  and  thus  render 
it  impossible  for  the  other  interpreting  powers  to  act, 
since  there  is  nothing  definite  for  them  to  act  upon. 
Every  one  is  sensible  of  this  in  reading,  or  in  listening 
to  a  speech.  We  may  overcome  the  difficulties  pre- 
sented to  the  mind  by  one  or  two  long  words  in  a  sen- 
tence, but  when  they  are  piled  up  in  Johnsonian  pro- 
fusion, although  we  may  be  familiar  with  each  separate 
word,  in  their  aggregate  they  are  too  heavy  for  the  mind 
to  carry  ;  they  drop  out  one  by  one  in  the  progress  of  the 
sentence,  and  at  its  close  we  are  unable  to  say  whether 
the  proposition  is  true  or  false. 

2.  Advantages  of  Long  Words. 

(1)  Sound  and  Sense. — While  long  words  are  less 
easily  interpreted  than  short  ones,  there  are  grounds 
for  their  moderate  use.  Majesty  is  so  connected  with 
magnitude  that  the  length  of  the  word  is  often  natu- 
rally suggestive  of  the  grandeur  of  the  conception,  while 
little  words  connect  pettiness  with  the  thought.  There 
is  an  "  eternal  fitness  "  in  the  adaptation  of  the  length 
of  words  to  the  sense ;  of  which  Pope  says : 


162  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

"  A  vile  conceit  in  pompous  words  express'd 
Is  like  a  clown  in  regal  purple  dress'd  ; 
For  different  styles  witli  different  subjects  sort, 
As  several  garbs  with  country,  town  and  court "  * 

(2)  Actual  Economy. — A  more  important  consul 
eration  is,  that  long  words  often  express  what  couM  IK- 
otherwise  expressed  only  by  a  still  longer  compound,  or 
an  awkward  circumlocution.  It  is,  doubtless,  simpler 
and  more  intelligible  to  say,  "  the  expansibility  of  gas/' 
than  to  say,  the  "power  of  gas  to  be  made  to  fill  a 
greater  space;"  or,  "  the  indestructibility  of  matter," 
than,  "  the  want  of  power  in  matter  to  be  put  out  of 
being."  But  long  Words  are  often  used  not  so  much 
on  account  of  their  expressiveness,  as  from  ostentation. 
They  give  a  sonorous  fullness  to  empty  thoughts,  and 
an  outward  majesty  to  vulgar  sentiments.  Beranger,f 
in  one  of  his  songs,  not  unhappily  compares  preten 
tious  expressions  to  a  big,  gaudily  dressed  drum-major 
and  those  of  modest  simplicity  to  the  quiet  little  Napo- 
leon at  Austerlitz,  clad  in  his  plain  gray  coat.  There 
is  much  force  in  this  comparison,  and  the  growing  ten- 
dency to  use  "long- tailed  words  in  -osity  and  -ation" 
merely  for  the  sake  of  using  them,  shows  a  lamentable 
deficiency  of  good  taste  and  good  sense. 

3.  Value  of  Saxon  Illustrated  from 
Literature. 

Even  the  redemptive  feature  of  their  exquisitely 
musical  arrangement  and  almost  unequaled  imagery, 
lias  not  preserved  such  writers  as  Sir  Thomas  Browne 
and  Jeremy  Taylor  from  neglect  by  a  generation  ol 

*  Essay  on  Criticism,  Part  II. 
|  Quoted  by  R.  G.  Wbite,  in  Words  and  their  Uses 

f 


LAWS  OF   FORM.  163 

readers  who  are  unwilling  to  trace  out  such  words  as, 
"  amorevalezza,"  "  illaqueation,"  "  immarcescible," 
a^d  "  salertiousness."  Writers  must  pay  the  penalty 
of  thoir  ambition  for  "  eigh teen-inch  words/'  as  Hor- 
ace calls  them,  for  the  age  is  impatient  with  glossaries. 
The  experience  of  writers  and  the  philosophy  of  men- 
tal action  confirm  the  observation  of  Lord  Stanley,  that 
"  it  is  the  plain  Saxon  phrase  far  more  than  any  term 
be  rrowed  from  Greek  or  Latin  literature  that,  whether 
iii  speech  or  writing,  goes  straightest  and  strongest  to 
^nen's  heads  and  hearts."  Yet  it  is  not  because  words 
are  Saxon  that  they  are  forceful ;  it  is  rather  because 
they  are  centers  of  significance  without  useless  syllabic 
appendages.  A  Latin  term  is  as  expressive  as  any  other 
if  it  be  brief  and  familiar  and  well  charged  with  mean 
ing.  It  is  fashionable  to  decry  all  words  of  Latin  origin, 
but,  as  Sir  Francis  Palgrave  has  said  of  our  language, 
"the  warp  may  be  Anglo-Saxon,  but  the  woof  is  Ko- 
man  as  well  as  the  embroidery,  and  these  foreign  ma- 
terials have  so  entered  into  the  texture,  that,  were  they 
plucked  out,  the  web  would  be  torn  to  rags,  unraveled 
and  destroyed."  *  While,  therefore,  Saxon  terms  are 
often  preferable  on  account  of  their  brevity,  Latin  de- 
rivatives are  not  to  be  despised. 

III.    INCLUSION. 
1.  Definition  and  Forms  of  Inclusion. 

By  the  inclusion  of  words  is  meant  the  extent  of 
their  application  to  objects,  not  with  reference  to  their 
numbers,  but  their  kind.  Thus  stone  includes  several 

*  History  of  Normandy  and  England,  Vol.  I. 


164  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC 

hundred  species,  as  trap,  limestone,  quartz,  etr.,  while 
vnyx  includes  only  stones  of  a  single  kind.  AY  hen  we 
remember  that  a  sign  which  stands  for,  or  includes,  a 
gnat  variety  of  things  is  as  likely  to  suggest  one  as 
another  of  them,  the  question  of  inclusion  becomes  of 
the  greatest  importance  to  the  economy  of  interpreting 
power. 

With  reference  to  their  inclusion,  words  may  be 
divided  into  three  classes  :  (1)  those  which  refer  to 
things  as  members  of  a  species  or  of  a  genus,  or  Specific 
and  Ge  n eral  Words;  (2)  those  which,  without  a  change 
of  form,  stand  for  entirely  different  classes  of  things, 
or  Homonyms  ;  and  (3)  those  which  closely  resemble 
other  words,  or  Analogues.  We  shall  consider  these 
three  classes  separately. 

2.  Specific  and  General  Words. 

(1)  Difference  between  Specific  and  Genera. 
Words. — We  say  very  different  things  in  the  sentences, 
"  Each  star  is  poised  on  the  finger  of  God ;"  and 
"Every  heavenly  body  is  held  in  the  hand  of  the  Di- 
vine Being  ;"  yet,  the  two  ideas  are  not  so  remote  from 
each  other  that  the  one  could  not  be  put  for  the  other. 
The  general  idea  is  the  same  in  each,  but  the  one  is 
specific,  the  other  general.  In  the  first,  the  statement 
applies  to  the  stars  alone ;  in  the  second,  to  all  the 
heavenly  bodies.  In  the  first, -we  specify  the  finger ; 
in  the  second  the  hand.  In  the  first,  God  stands 
out  as  an  unclassified  and  supreme  personality  ;  in  the 
second,  He  is  classed  among  beings,  and  distinguished 
only  by  the  attribute  of  divinity.  The  diffeience  be- 
tween the  two  propositions  does  not  lie  in  any  figura- 
tive quality,  for  the  figure  is  of  the  same  kind  in  each 


LAWS  OF  FORM.  165 

Yet,  the  former  is  plainly  the  more  strikir.^  Xoiiu  of 
expression.  On  what  ground  is  the  iirst  more  impres- 
sive :  The  answer  is  obvious  :  the  first  is  more  spc- 
cific.  Tlie  word  "star"  instantly  suggests  a  definite 
image;  but  "every  heavenly  body"  is  vague,  since  it 
includes  sun,,  moon,  and  stars,  and  to  an  educated 
mind,  comets  and  meteors.  "  Poised"  presents  to  the 
mind  a  specific  kind  of  holding,  while  "  held"  is  capa 
ble  of  a  number  of  specific  senses,  between  which  the 
mind  is  at  a  loss  which  to  choose.  "Finger  "  points 
out  the  exact  part  of  the  hand,  while  "hand"  having 
a  great  number  of  parts,  suggests  a  complex  conception. 
"  God"  suggests  all  that  the  mind  has  associated  with 
that  specific  name,  as  representing  a  person  ;  while 
"Divine  Being  "  is  a  more  diffused  notion.  Divesting 
the  sentence  entirely  of  its  specific  character,  and  put- 
ting the  conception  in  a  still  more  general  form,  we 
have,  "  All  things  are  sustained  by  divine  power  ;  " — 
which  is  so  general  as  not  to  present  any  image  to  the 
mind,  and  makes  very  little  impression  upon  us. 

(2)  Eeasons  for  the  Superior  Force  of  Specific 

Expressions. — The  more  specific  a  statement,  the  less 
mental  power  is  required  to  put  it  before  the  mind  for 
cognition.  The  tendency  of  philosophic  minds  is  to 
generalize,  to  reduce  all  truth  to  a  formula  which  shall 
be  the  concentrated  expression  of  the  whole.  The 
difficulty  which  the  human  mind  has  experienced  in 
arriving  at  any  such  formula,  and  the  conflicting 
notions  of  men. in  all  ages  with  respect  to  the  truth  or 
falsity  of  abstract  statements,  are  sufficient  evidence  ol 
the  obstacles  to  be  overcome  in  interpreting  such  forms 
of  expression.  Generic  names  offer  the  amplest  oppor- 
tunity for  sophistry,  because  what  may  be  true  of  some 


166  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

members  of  a  class  may  not  be  true  of  other  membera 
of  the  same  class.  The  Writer  may  have  in  mind  one 
subdivision  of  a  class  of  which  his  affirmation  is  true 
while  the  generic  name  may  suggest  to  his  reado* 
another  subdivision  of  the  class  of  which  the  affirma- 
tion^ not  true.  To  many  minds  not  habituated  to 
abstract  thought,  abstract  terms  suggest  no  ideas  what- 
ever, but  men  of  all  grades  of  intelligence  know  the 
names  of  specific  objects,  acts,  and  relations,  and  these 
are  at  once  suggested  by  the  appropriate  sign.  It  is 
not  true  that  the  imagination  is  more  severely  taxed 
by  specific  and  concrete  than  by  general  and  abstract 
terms.  A  dog,  a  horse,  a  house,  or  the  moon  is  pre- 
sented for  cognition  on  the  canvas  of  the  imagination 
as  soon  as  the  verbal  sign  denoting  it  is  uttered.  Terms 
like  animal,  building,  and  heavenly  orb  are  much  more 
taxing  on  the  powers,  since  they  involve  the  presenta- 
tion to  the  mind,  not  of  a  thing,  an  act,  or  a  relation, 
but  of  a  conception  which  has  no  correlative  in  the 
actual  world,  but  which  is  made  up  of  qualities  taken 
from  all  the  individuals  of  the  class  which  we  have  ever 
seen.  Scarcely  any  uneducated  man  can  define  the 
word  animal.  He  will  almost  certainly  exclude  man 
and  bird  and  fish ;  he  will  be  sure  to  exclude  oyster 
and,  possibly,  he  tfill  represent  all  animals  as  having 
four  legs. 

The  use  of  specific  terms,  when  possible,  obviates 
much  of  the  difficulty  in  the  interpreting  mind,  not 
exacting  of  it  a  laborious  and  probably  futile  use  of  the 
imagination  in  presenting  for  cognition  a  host  of  irrele- 
vant objects,  which,  if  presented,  would  only  embarrass 
and  confuse  the  mind. 

(3)  A  Choice  of  Terms  Possible.— Those  who  are 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  167 

fond  of  regarding  language  as  the  incarnation  of 
thoughts,  may  consider  these  facts  and  principles  of 
small  value  to  style,  on  the  ground  that,  with  a  given 
idea  to  be  expressed,  a  writer  has  no  choice  between 
generic  and  specific  words.  On  this  question  of  option 
Dr.  Wbately  says : 

"It  might  be  supposed  at  first  sight,  that  an 
author  has  little  or  no  choice  on  this  point,  but  must 
employ  either  more  or  less  general  terms  according  to 
the  objects  he  is  speaking  of.  There  is,  however,  in 
almost  every  case,  great  room  for  such  a  choice  as  we 
are  speaking  of  ;  for,  in  the  first  place,  it  depends  on 
our  choice  whether  or  not  we  will  employ  terms  more 
general  than  the  subject  requires ;  which  may  almost 
always  be  done  consistently  with  truth  and  propriety, 
though  not  with  energy  ;  if  it  be  true  that  a  man  has 
committed  murder,  it  may  correctly  be  asserted,  that  he 
has  committed  a  crime  :  if  the  Jews  were  '  exterminated ' 
and  '  Jerusalem  demolished '  by  '  Vespasian's  arm}',7  it 
may  be  said,  with  truth,  that  they  were  '  subdued '  by 
'  an  enemy/  and  their  'capital '  taken."  * 

3.  Homonyms. 

(1)  Allowable  Homonyms. — Of  not  less  import- 
ance, but  wholly  distinct  from  the  general  or  specific 
character  of  words,  is  their  doi(Memeanin^_  It  is  an 
effort  to  make  an  economical  use  of  a  small  verbal  cap- 
ital that  causes  every  language  to  contain  many  words 
with  several  distinct  meanings.  They  begin,  doubtless, 
in  metaphor,  but  finally  cannot  be  distinguished  from 
plain  speech.  The  use  of  words  in  a  second  or  third 
gense  affords  very  little  embarrassment  to  an  intelligent 

*  Rhetoric-,  Part  III.     Chap,  ii.,  §  1. 


168  THE   SCIENCE   OF    RHETORIC. 

mind,  unless  the  same  word  appears  with  more  than 
one  sense  in  the  same  sentence.  The  word  head  ma} 
mean  a  part  of  the  body  ;  a  chief  or  leader  ;  the  large 
end  of  anything,  as  of  a  nail  ;  the  place  where  the  head 
should  go,  as  the  head  of  a  bed  ;  the  place  of  command 
or  honor  ;  the  intellect,  as  distinguished  from  the  feel- 
ings ;  the  source,  or  fountain  ;  a  division  of  a  discourse  ; 
the  foam  on  a  pot  of  beer ;  and  power,  or  force,  as 
when  Shakespeare  says, 

"  My  lord,  iny  lord,  the  French  have  gathered  head." 

We  seldom  mistake  the  meaning  of  such  a  word  in. 
any  of  its  uses,  because  the  connection  suggests  the 
sense. 

(2)  AmblgUOUS  Homonyms. — It  is  no1,  so,  how- 
ever, in  all  cases.  Some  words  signify  thins* ^  so  nearly 
alike  that  we  are  at  a  loss  to  determine  whj^h  of  two 
are  intended.  Pope,  in  his  "  Essay  on  Critic  ;.sm,"  uses 
the  word  "  wit "  with  at  least  seven  different  meanings, 
and  for  their  shades  of  distinction  we  are  dependent 
entirely  on  the  context. 

The  worst  variety  of  the  fault  appears  in  the  use  of 
the  same  sound  or  form  in  more  than  one  sense  in  the 
same  connection.  This  is  the  principle  of  the  pun  and 
the  most  common  form  of  fallacy.  Its  more  playful 
bearing  is  illustrated  in  the  following  advertisement  of 
a  baker  :  "The  subscriber,  knowing  that  all  men  need 
bread,  wishes  the  public  to  know  that  he  also  kneads 
it ;  and  he  hopes  that  the  best  bred  people  in  the  city 
will  find  him  the  best  bread  man."  When  the  double 
sense  is  obvious  and  is  playfully  intended,  it  is  regarded 
as  a  pun,  and  passes  for  innocent  wit ;  but  when  the 
true  sense  is  concealed  and  the  coincidence  of  sound 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  169 

or  form  misleads  the  understanding,  it  is  called  the 
fallacy  of  at/ibiguous  middle,  and  becomes  a  potent  in 
strument  of  the  sophist.     Thus  in  the  syllogism, 

A.  plain  style  is  intelligible, 

This  is  a  plain  style  ;  therefore 

This  style  is  intelligible  ; 

if  in  the  first  premise  the  word  "  plain  "  is  used  as  Dp- 
posed  to  obscure,  and  in  the  second  as  opposed  to 
ornamental,  the  conclusion  that  the  style  in  question 
is  intelligible  may  not  be  correct,  for  while  the  absence 
of  obscurity  insures  intelligibility,  the  absence  of  orna- 
ment does  not  in  any  way  affect  the  intelligibility. 

The  use  of  a  word  which  in  its  connection  is  capa- 
ble of  more  than  one  meaning  either  confuses  the 
thought  or  has  no  effect  upon  the  mind.  In  Swift's 
expression,  "  A  little  after  the  reformation  of  Luther," 
if  we  really  think,  we  shall  be  in  doubt  whether  the 
Dean  refers  to  Luther's  personal  abandonment  of  Rom- 
anism, or  to  the  religious  revolution  of  which  he  was  the 
leading  spirit.  In  the  phrase  "  the  love  of  God,"  "  of" 
is  ambiguous,  since  the  expression  may  mean  God's 
love  to  us,  or  our  love  to  God. 

4.    Analogues. 

Words  denoting  different  things,  and  yet  likely  to 
be  confounded  on  account  of  their  resemblance,  may 
be  subdivided  into  two  classes  :  (1)  those  which  are 
similar  in  form;  and  (2)  those  which  are  similar  io 
meaning* 

(1)  Analogues  in  Form.— Mr.  SMllaber  has  won 

his  reputation  as  a  humorist  chiefly  by  his  illustrations 
of   the   nonsense  resulting  from   the  confounding  of 
words  which  resemble  each  other  in  form  but  not  in 
8 


170  THE   SCIENCE   OF   KHETOKIC. 

sense-     Mrs.  Partington  is  too  well  known  to  require  a 
potation. 

Respectable  writers  sometimes  confound  words  from 
trie  same  radical,  but  having  different  meanings  ;  as 
falsehood,  falseness,  (<m&  falsity  ;  sophism  and  sophistry* 
As  much  often  depends  on  the  differential  of  a  word 
us  on  its  radical,  and  USE  is  more  important  than 
either. 

(2)  Analogues  in  Meaning. — The  co-existence  of 

two  distinct  classes  of  words  in  English,  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  and  the  Gorman- French,  gives  to  our  language 
a  bilingual  character  that  often  leads  writers  into  error 
The  very  richness  of  the  language  exposes  the  careless 
to  a  loose  expression  of  thought.  Daily  and  diurnal 
are  to  a  certain  degree  interchangeable  ;  as  in  "  the  daily 
revolution  of  the  earth,"  and  "  the  diurnal  revolution 
of  the  earth  ;  "  but  we  cannot  say  "  our  diurnal  bread." 
Usage  has  appropriated  daily  to  the  common  affairs  of 
,ife,  and  diurnal  to  astronomical  and  other  scientific 
descriptions.  Eich  as  our  language  is  in  words  closely 
allied  in  meaning,  scarcely  two  have  precisely  the  same 
signification.  Successful  writers  have,  therefore,  been 
oareful  students  of  synonyms.  Usage,  "  the  law  and 
rule  of  speaking,"  as  Horace  calls  it,  is  the  supreme 
authority  here,  rather  than  etymology.  A  departure 
from  the  ordinary  acceptation  of  words,  however  phil- 
osophical it  may  seem,  is  almost  sure  to  present  a  dilli 
culty  to  the  interpreting  mind.  Since  language  is 
wholly  conventional,  one  who  would  master  its  re- 
sources must  read  extensively  and  critically  the  best 
books  of  his  age,  and,  as  much  as  possible,  associate 
f  (\\  the  most  cultivated  speakers. 


LAWS  OF  FORM.  171 

IV.     IMP  LIG A  TION. 
1.  The  Effect  of  Words  on  Thoughts. 

When  Lawrence  Sterne  exhorted  all  god-fathers  not 
{i  to  Nicodemus  a  man  into  nothing/'  he  grasped  an 
important  principle  of  style ;  namely,  the  force  of 
implication^  or  what  a  word  may  suggest  in  distinction 
from  what  it  includes.  The  influence  of  names  on 
thoughts  is  almost  magical.  Their  effect  on  the  sen- 
sibilities is  so  powerful  that  the  author  who  has  little 
to  say  may  lull  the  mind  to  soothing  slumber  by  visions 
of  dreamy  beauty.  The  operations  of  the  interpreting 
powers  depend  largely  on  the  condition  of  the  sensibili- 
ties. A  man  enraptured  by  sweet  music  does  not  pause 
to  work  out  a  problem  in  the  calculus  ;  and  the  reader 
whose  sensibilities  are  touched  by  joy,  love,  hate,  envy, 
anger,  revenge,  or  the  sense  of  beauty,  is  borne  on  the 
current  of  his  emotions,  and  the  fancy  plays  while 
the  reason  sleeps. 

2.  The  Associations  of  Words, 

Every  word  is  a  nucleus  around  which  innumerable 
associations  cluster.  The  mere  mention  of  a  word 
awakens  images,  and  these  images  arouse  emotion  in  the 
mind.  Thus  a  common-place  person  becomes  an  object 
of  admiration  when  classed  as  a  martyr  ;  a  lazy  vaga- 
bond who  happens  to  serve  in  the  army  and  receive  a 
wound,  becomes  a  glorious  being  when  referred  to  as 
a  "scarred  and  war-worn  veteran."  On  the  other 
hand,  a  diligent  scholar  sinks  into  a  despicable  object 
when  dubbed  a  "sleepy  look-ivorm ;"  and  the  hero  of 
a  hundred  battles  is  a  hateful  thing,  when  the  dema- 


172  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

gogue  calls  him  "  a  bloody  tyrant."  Such  is  the  p  vei 
of  names  on  thought,  and,  in  the  Imnd  of  a  master, 
they  are,  by  implication  alone,  potent  instruments  ir 
shaping  convictions  and  inspiring  actions. 

3.  The  Utilization  of  Pre-exerted  Energies 

This  suggestive  use  of  words  owes  its  power  to  the 
general  law  of  style,  the  economy  of  mental  power. 
It  is  an  appropriation  of  previous  mental  acts.  Instead 
of  saying  of  the  king,  he  did  this  and  that,  and  there- 
fore deserves  your  hatred,  we  may  avail  ourselves  of 
the  mind's  previous  operations  by  which  it  has  come  to 
hate  tyranny,  and  the  name  tyrant,  on  the  slightest 
proof,  works  out  sedition.  When  the  implication  is 
manifestly  absurd,  it  passes  for  sport,  and  the  deeper 
the  implication  the  merrier  the  laugh.  It  is  the  depth 
of  implication  rather  than  the  bread  th  of  inclusion  which 
cuts  the  school-girl  so  painfully,  when,  in  a  fit  of  anger 
her  companion  calls  her  a  "mean  thing."  To  be  a 
thing  is  not  simply  to  be  divested  of  one's  humanity 
and  reduced  to  an  inanimate  object ;  but  it  is  implied 
that  whatever  is  meanest  and  most  detestable  in  the 
broad  category  of  things,  that  is  meant,  although  it  is 
not  specified.  The  force  of  implication  is  well  illus- 
trated by  Aristotle.*  Simonides,  when  the  victor  in  a 
mule-race  offered  him  a  trifling  present  to  compose  a 
triumphal  ode  for  the  occasion,  refused  to  write,  as  if 
feeling  hurt  at  being  asked  to  write  on  "  half -asses." 
Bui  when  he  received  a  satisfactory  present  he  wrote  : 

"  Hail  1  Daughters  of  tlie  generous  Horse, 
That  skim  like  wind,  along  the  course;" 

*  Rhetoric,  Book   III.  Chap.  ii.  §  14. 


LAWS  OF   FORM.  173 

without  any  allusion   to  the  asinine  side  of    their 
pedigree. 

SECTION  II. 

SENTENCES,  OR  COMBINATIONS  OP 
WORDS. 

We  are  now  to  consider  words  in  their  simplest  form 
I  combination,  the  sentence.  We  have  already  indi- 
cated that  this  portion  of  our  theme  is  embraced  in 
three  particulars  :  (1)  the  NUMBER  of  words  ;  (2)  their 
POSITION"  with  reference  to  one  another  ;  and  (3)  their 
RELATION  to  the  idea  as  a  whole. 

I.   THE  NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 

The  time-relation  of  the  sentence  requires  the  words 
to  be  as  few  as  possible  ;  the  truth-relation  demands  a 
sufficient  number  to  explicate  clearly  the  idea.  The 
general  luw  being,  therefore,  to  use  as  few  words  as 
will  adequately  express  the  idea,  we  have  only  to  con- 
sider the  vrays  in  which  the  law  is  most  commonly  vi- 
olated. They  are  three  :  (1)  by  the  repetition  of  the 
same  sensn  in  different  words,  or  TAUTOLOGY  ;  (2)  by 
additions  not  necessary  to  the  sense,  or  REDUNDANCY; 
and  (3)  bj  a  diffuse  mode  of  expression  which  may  be 
recast  into  a,  briefer  form,  or  CIRCUMLOCUTION.  That 
these  three  cases  involve  an  unnecessary  expenditure  of 
interpreting  power,  is  self-evident.  That  they  are  se- 
rious pitfahs  to  intelligent  writers,  is  evident  from  the 
instances  found  in  the  works  of  the  greatest  masters  of 
gtylo.  As  uope  has  said  : 

'  Wordf  are  but  leaves,  and  where  they  most  abound 
M  job  iruit  of  sense  beneath  is  rarely  found." 


174  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC, 

1.  Tautology. 

A  biographer  of  Dr.  Johnson's,  among  other  in- 
stances of  "  desperate  tautology,"  quotes  the  famili'ir 
lines  from  the  imitation  of  Juvenal  : 

"  Let  observation,  with  extensive  view, 
Survey  mankind  from  China  to  Peru ; " 

and  maintains,  not  unjustly,  that  this  is  equivalent  to, 
"Let  observation  with  extensive  observation  observe 
mankind  extensively."  This  hardly  surpasses  the  in 
stance  of  tautology  in  Addison's  Oato  : 

"  The  dawn  is  overcast,  the  morning  lowers, 
And  heavily  in  clouds  brings  in  the  day, 
The  great,  the  important  day,  big  with  the  fate 
Of  Cato  and  of  Rome." 

Dr.  Whately  thinks  that  the  lack  of  comprehensive 
powers  in  the  hearer  or  reader  and  the  abstruseness  of 
the  idea  may  sometimes  justify  repetition.  He  says  : 
"  It  is  remarked  by  anatomists,  that  the  nutritive 
quality  is  not  the  only  requisite  in  food  ;  that  a  certain 
degree  of  distension  of  the  stomach  is  required,  to 
enable  it  to  act  with  its  full  powers,  and  that  it  is  for 
this  reason  hay  or  straw  must  be  given  to  horses,  as 
well  as  corn,  in  order  to  supply  the  necessary  bulk."  * 
This  illustration  is  both  just  and  ingenious,  but  it  is 
clear  that  this  "  distention "  does  not  require  the 
repetition  so  much  as  the  analytical  and  progressive 
presentation  of  an  idea.  If  a  proposition  is  skillfully 
divided  into  minor  ones,  and  the  main  truth  is  un- 
folded by  easy  gradations,  and  each  increment  of  the 
total  idea  is  presented  in  a  perfectly  clear  manner, 

*  Rhetoric,  Part  III,  Chap.  i.  §  2. 


LAWS   OF  FOKM.  175 

there    may   be   sufficient    distenfcion    without    much 
repetition. 

2.  Redundancy. 

Kedundancy  has  no  excuse.  A  word  which  does 
Dot  contribute  to  unfold  the  meaning  increases  uselessly 
the  friction  of  the  interpreting  machinery.  Thus 
Addison  says,  "  If  he  happens  to  have  any  leisure  upon 
his  hands."  Here  "upon  his  hands"  is  not  only  un- 
'necessary,  but  even  suggests  a  ludicrous  idea  to  one 
who  thinks  of  "  leisure  upon  the  hands."  The  most 
common  forms  of  redundancy  are  those  in  which  the 
expletives  "  there  "  and  "  being"  are  used  ;  as,  "  There 
is  no  one  who  can,"  for  "  No  one  can  ; "  and  "  Being 
convinced  of  this,"  for  "  Convinced  of  this." 

The  use  of  epithets  is  a  common  form  of  redun- 
dancy. In  speaking  of  any  thing  which  has  a  particular 
color  as  an  essential  attribute,  as  snow,  it  is  an  offense 
to  the  intelligence  to  say  the  "white  snow."  "In 
poetry,"  says  Aristotle,  "  it  is  becoming  enough  to  say, 
( white  milk  ;'  in  prose,  however,  it  is  rather  bad 
taste."  *  When  an  object  may  have -one  of  severer 
colors,  distinctness  may  be  given  to  the  image  by  speci- 
fying the  color,  f  Any  important  characteristic  or 
action  may  be  brought  to  view  by  a  well  chosen 
epithet.  Thus  in  the  lines, 

"  The  wJieeling  plover  ceased 
Her  plaint," 

'  wheeling  "  presents  a  peculiar  motion  of  the  plover,  and 
alao  suggests  a  more  beautiful  idea  than  of  a  bird  at  rest. 

*  Rhetoric,  Book  III,  Chap.  iii.  §  3. 

f  According  to   Whately,  (Rhetoric,  Part  III,  Chap.  ii.  §  4 
such  a  word  would  not  be  an  epithet.     His  sense  is  peculiar. 


i?G  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

Frigidity  is  the  result  of  a  too  frequent  use  of 
epithets.  Aristotle  says  of  Alcidamus,  that  his  writings 
appear  frigid  "  because  he  employs  epithets  not  *u 
the  seasoning  but  as  the  food."  He  does  not  say  the 
sweat,  but  the  moist  sweat ;  nor  that  he  covered  his 
person,  but  the  nakedness  of  his  person. 

3.  Circumlocution. 

Circumlocution  is  the  result  of  indistinctness  or 
timidity  of  thought.  So  good  a  writer  as  Lord 
Brougham  has  written  this  vaporous  sentence  : 

"  Among  the  eminent  men  who  figured  in  the 
eventful  history  of  the  French  Eevolution  was  M. 
Talleyrand  ;  and  whether  in  that  scene,  or  in  any 
portion  of  modern  annals,  we  shall  in  vain  look  fo? 
one  who  represents  a  more  interesting  subject  of 
history." 

In  addition  to  beating  out  the  sense  to  the  thinnes; 
possible  film,  his  lordship  makes  Talleyrand  figure  in 
the  history  instead  of  the  scene,  then  confounds  scene 
and  annals,  and,  finally,  tells  us  that  Talleyrand  repre- 
sents an  interesting  subject  of  history.  The  idea  may 
be  more  clearly  expressed  in  twenty-four  instead  of 
forty-four  words  : 

Among  the  eminent  characters  of  the  French  Eev- 
olution was  M.  Talleyrand,  and,  in  modern  times,  wo 
shall  find  no  more  interesting  subject  of  history. 

Circumlocution  is  often  employed  to  express  deli- 
cately, and  hence  vaguely,  what  one  does  not  wish  tu 
eay  plainly.  It  is  in  this  case  an  ingenious  rhetorical 
device,  but  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  legitimate  factoj 
of  a  good  style. 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  17? 

II.     THE  POSITION  OF  WORDS. 

The  position  of  words  with  reference  to  one  another 
depends  on:  (1)  their  individual  force  ;  (2)  their 
modifying  effect  upon  other,  words  ;  and  (3)  their 
grammatical  relations.  What  is  shown  of  single  words 
applies  also  to  clauses  and  phrases,  regarded  as  logical 
elements  of  a  sentence. 

1.  The  Individual  Force  of  Words. 

So  far  as  the  position  of  words  depends  on  their  in- 
dividual force,  two  particulars  are  to  be  regarded :  (1) 
their  Emphasis  ;  and  (2)  their  Abstractness. 

(1)  Emphasis, — Emphasis  aims  at  the  economy  OA 
interpreting  power  by  making  the  emphatic  word  so 
prominent  as  to  remove  all  doubt  as  to  which  it  is 
meant  to  be.     This  is  done  by  taking  the  emphatic 
word  out  of  its  natural  place  in  the  sentence,  and  put- 
ting it  where  it  will  be  striking  because  of  the  novelty 
of  its  position.     It  would  be  natural  to  say,    "The 
mystery  of  godliness  is  great ;"  but,  since  "great"  is 
the  emphatic  word,  it  may  be  put  first,  and  all  can  see 
that  emphasis  is  increased  by  the  form,  "  Great  is  the 
mystery  of  godliness."     So  also  in,  "Great  is  Diana  of 
the  Ephesians;"    "Silver  and  gold  have  I  none;" 
"Now  is  the  appointed  time."     It  is  clear,  however, 
that  too  frequent  use  of  this  principle  of  emphatic  in- 
version would  defeat  its  own  end,  since  the  force  of  it 
depends  on  its  novelty,  i.  e.,  on  its  being  a  departure 
from  the  common  order. 

(2)  Abstractness. — The  abstractness  of  words  and 
clauses  should  also  affect  their  position.     There  is  rea- 
son to  suppose  that,  apart  from  their  connection,  the 

8* 


L78  THE   SCIEKCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

order  of  words  is  as  important  in  the  building  up  of  a 
thought,  as  the  order  of  incidents  is  in  telling  a  story, 
As  in  a  narrative  each  statement  should  be  such  as  to 
carry  the  mind  forward  and  make  the  account  seem 
natural  at  every  point,  without  forcing  the  mind  to 
hold  something  as  unexplained  until  something  else  is 
added,  so  in  a  sentence  the  sequence  of  words  should  be 
such  as  to  waste  no  power  in  building  up  the  thought. 
Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  has  treated  the  question,  what  is 
the  natural  order  of  images  in  thought  ? 

(a)  He  begins  by  considering  the  natural  order  of 
the  adjective  and  substantive.  "  Ought  we  to  say  with 
the  French — un  chevalnoir  ;  or  to  say  as  we  do — a  black 
horse  ?  Probably,  most  persons  of  culture  would  de- 
cide that  one  order  is  as  good  as  the  other.  Alive  to 
the  bias  produced  by  habit,  they  would  ascribe  to  that 
the  preference  they  feel  for  our  own  form  of  expression. 
They  would  expect  those  educated  in  the  use  of  the 
opposite  form  to  have  an  equal  preference  for  that. 
And  thus  they  would  conclude  that  neither  of  these 
instinctive  judgments  is  of  any  worth.  There  is,  how- 
ever, a  philosophical  ground  for  deciding  in  favor  of 
the  English  custom.  If  a  'horse  black'  be  the  ar- 
rangement, immediately  on  the  utterance  of  the  word 
'horse,'  there  arises,  or  tends  to  arise,  in  the  mind,  a 
picture  answering  to  that  word  ;  and  as  there  has  been 
nothing  to  indicate  what  kind  of  a  horse,  any  image  of 
a  horse  suggests  itself.  Very  likely,  hoAvever,  the  im- 
age will  be  that  of  a  brown  horse  ;  brown  horses  being 
fche  most  familiar.  The  result  is  that  when  the  word 
'  black '  is  added,  a  check  is  given  to  the  process  of 
thought  Either  the  picture  of  a  brown  horse  already 
present  to  the  imagination  has  to  be  suppressed  «iul 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  179 

the  picture  of  a  black  one  summoned  into  its  place  ;  01 
else,  if  the  picture  of  a  brown  horse  be  yet  unformed, 
the  tendency  to  form  it  has  to  be  stopped.  Whichever 
is  the  case,  a  certain  amount  of  hinderance  results.  But 
if,  on  the  other  hand,  '  a  black  horse '  be  the  expression 
used,  no  such  mistake  can  be  made.  The  word  ;  black ' 
indicating  an  abstract  quality,  arouses  no  definite  idea. 
It  simply  prepares  the  mind  for  conceiving  some  object 
of  that  color ;  and  the  attention  is  kept  suspender1  un- 
til that  object  is  known.  If,  then,  by  the  precedence 
of  the  adjective,  the  idea  is  conveyed  without  liability 
to  error,  whereas  the  precedence  of  the  substantive  is 
apt  to  produce  a  misconception,  it  follows  that  the 
one  gives  the  mind  less  trouble  than  the  other,  and  is 
therefore  more  forcible."  * 

(b)  What,  in  a  general  formula,  is  the  order  in 
which  the  constituent  elements  of  an  idea  are  iuanled  9 
In  reading  history,  our  conception  is  much  more  defi- 
nite if  we  know  when  and  ivhere  the  events  occurred, 
Hence,  if  the  word  or  clause  marking  the  time  or  place 
be  given  first,  and  the  statement  of  fact  afterward,  we 
have  a  more  vivid  conception  of  it.  This  seems  to  in- 
dicate that  words  referring  to  time  or  place  should  be 
introduced  at  the  beginning  of  a  sentence.  The  same 
precedence,  according  to  Lord  Kames,  should  be  given 
to  any  attendant  circumstance  ;  for,  as  he  says,  "When 
a  circumstance  is  placed  at  the  beginning  of  the  period, 
or  near  the  beginning,  the  transition  from  it  to  the 
principal  subject  is  agreeable  ;  is  like  ascending  or  go- 
ing upward."  f  lie  explains  this  fact  on  the  ground 
that  "circumstances  arc  proper  for  that  coolness  of 

*  Philosophy  of  Style. 

f  Elements  of  Criticism,  Chap.  XVIII.     Sec.  2. 


18C  THE   SCIEKOE   OF  EHETOEIC. 

mind  with  which  we  begin  a  period  as  well  as  a  yol« 
rme  :  in  the  progress,  the  mind  warms,  and  has  a 
greater  relist  for  matters  of  importance."  "On  the 
other  hand,  to  place  it  late  in  the  period  has  a  bad  ef- 
fect ;  for  after  being  engaged  in  the  principal  subject, 
one  is  with  reluctance  brought  down  to  give  attention 
to  a  circumstance."  The  principle  may  be  illustrated 
by  a  sentence  from  Swift:  "And  although  they  may 
be,  and  too  often  are  drawn,  by  the  temptations  of 
youth,  and  the  opportunities  of  a  large  fortune,  into 
some  irregularities,  when  they  come  forward  into  the  great 
world,  it  is  ever  with  reluctance  and  compunction 
of  mind,  because  their  bias  to  virtue  still  continues." 

It  is  better  to  put  the  temporal -clause  first,  thus  : 
"And  although,  when  they  come  forward  into  the  great 
world,  they  may  be,  and  too  often  are,"  etc. 

Lord  Kames  closes  his  ingenious  treatment  of  this 
topic  with  this  conclusion  :  "  That  order  of  words  in  a 
period  will  be  most  agreeable,  where,  without  obscuring 
the  sense,  the  most  important  images,  the  most  sonorous 
words,  and  the  longest  members  bring  up  the  rear." 

(c)  The  explanation  of  this  important  truth  is  found 
n  the  economy  of  interpreting  power.  The  mind  has 
power  to  hold  at  once  but  a  limited  number  of  words. 
If  the  important  images  and  the  longest  members  come 
ut  the  beginning,  they  will  be  blurred,  if  not  wholly 
lost,  by  subsequent  attention  to  accessories.  The  re- 
sult will  be,  that  the  hearer  or  reader  will  miss  what  is 
most  important  unless  he  increases  his  effort.  Again, 
conditions  of  time,  place,  and  circumstance,  are  more 
abstract  than  a  simple  action  or  state  affirmed.  As  the 
mind  increases  its  burden  in  the  progress  of  the  sen- 
tence, and  ctmnot  properly  lay  it  aside  until  the  period 


I.A.WS  OF  FORM.  181 

's  ended,  the  mind  is  less  capable  of  exertion  at  the 
close  than  at  the  beginning.  Hence,  if  the  abstract 
ideas  come  at  the  end,  it  is  compelled  to  perform  its 
heaviest  work,  that  of  realizing  abstractions,  wher 
least  capable  of  doing  it.  The  natural  order  of  word* 
and  clauses  in  a  sentence  is,  therefore,  from  tlie  abstraci 
to  the  concrete.  It  is  the  abstract  nature  of  the  prepo- 
sition and  the  adverb,  as  well  as  their  insignificance  to 
the  ear,  which  renders  it  improper  to  use  them  at  the 
end  of  a  sentence. 

2.  The  Modifying  Effect  of  Words. 

We  have  now  to  consider  the  position  of  words  as 
modifying  other  words  in  the  sentence.  It  is  obvious 
that  most  words  do  not  exist  for  themselves,  while 
some  whole  classes  exist  solely  for  others.  This  rela- 
tion between  words  gives  rise  to  some  of  the  most  es- 
sential principles  of  style.  It  is  important,  therefore, 
to  proceed  tinder  the  guidance  of  a  sound  analysis  01 
the  facts  with  which  we  are  to  deal.  The  opposite  re- 
quirements of  the  truth-relation  and  the  time-relation 
have  been  already  pointed  out.  It  is  in  the  equilibrium 
of  these  two  contrary  forces  that  the  main  problem  of 
combining  words  lies.  We,  therefore,  consider  this 
branch  of  our  theme  under  two  heads  :  (1)  Proximity  9 
or,  the  requirement  of  the  time-relation  ;  an^_^]_^?ljL. 
entlietical  Expressions,  or  the  requirement jofjh^  trutli- 
relaiion.  These  counter  claims  do  not  always  conflict. 

(1)  Proximity. — In  a  language  like  the  English, 
in  which  the  force  of  a  modifier  depends  upon  its 
position,  two  forms  of  difficulty  arise  from  the  separa- 
tion of  modifiers  from  what  they  modify  :  (1)  a  word 
may  be  supposed  to  modify  a  different  word  from  the 


182  THE   SCIENCE   OF   HHETORIC. 

one  intended,  h  e  nee  A  nib  iguity  ;  or  (2)  it  may  seem 
not  to  modify  any  word,  hence  Obscurity.  In  both 
these  cases  there  is  an  obvious  waste  of  mental  power. 

1)  Ambiguity. — A  failure  to  place  related  words 
in  proximity  often  involves  excellent  writers  in  ambig 
uity.  Thus  Addison  says  :  "  Let  us  endeavor  to 
establish  to  ourselves  an  interest  in  him,  who  holds  the 
reins  of  the  whole  creation  in  Ms  hands."  "  The  cre- 
ation in  his  hands  "  is  suggestive  of  insignificance,  the 
very  opposite  of  what  the  author  would  convey,  for  he 
doubtless  means,  "  who  holds  in  his  hands  the  reins  of 
the  whole  creation."  Dr.  Blair,  in  his  "  Khetoric," 
has  not  always  avoided  this  fault.  He  says  :  "  There 
is  a  remarkable  union  in  his  style  of  harmony  and  ease; 
when  he  does  not  mean  "  his  style  of  harmony  and 
ease,"  but  a  "  union  of  harmony  and  ease  in  his 
style."  An  instance  of  the  violation  of  this  law 
scarcely  less  absurd  than  the  famous  example  of  "a 
jiorse  plowing  with  one  eye,"  is  found  in  an  essay  by 
D'Israeli.  He  says,  "  Hence  he  considered  marriage 
with  a  modern  political  economist,  as  very  dangerous." 
This  hit  at  modern  political  economists  was  quite  un- 
intentional, for  the  writer  meant  to  say,  "  Hence,  with 
a  modern  political  economist,  he  considered  marriage 
very  dangerous." 

(a)  This  law  governs  the  position  of  the  adverb,  that 
slippery  particle  which  occasions  so  much  trouble. 
Even  Dr.  Johnson  was  sometimes  led  to  offend  in  its 
management.  He  says,  "  I  hope  not  much  to  tire 
those  whom  I  shall  not  happen  to  please."  He  shoul 
have  said,  "  whom  I  shall  happen  not  to  please."  Dr. 
Blair  too  nods,  and  says,  "  Having  had  once  some  con- 
siderable object  set  before  us  ;"  meaning,  not  that  the 
object  was  once  considerable,  but  that  some  consider 


LAWS  OF   FORM.  183 

able  object  was  once  set  before  him.  Addison  is  guilty 
of  sn  ving,  "  By  greatness  I  do  not  only  mean  the  bulk  of 
any  single  object,  but  the  largeness  of  the  whole  view.' 
If  ho  did  not  only  mean,  what  did  he  more  than  mean 

(b)  The  proper  use  of  i\\Q  pronoun  is  also  deducec 
from  this  law  of  proximity.  Mr.  Hume  tells  us, 
"  They  flew  to  arms  and  attacked  Northumberland's 
horse,  ivliom  they  put  to  death."  Truly  a  glorious 
achievement,  if  literally  interpreted  ;  but  the  historian, 
doubtless,  intends  to  inform  us  that  they  put  the  Duke 
to  death,  instead  of  his  horse.  Swift,  in  his  "  Letter 
to  a  Young  Gentleman,"  says  :  "From  a  habit  of  sav- 
ing time  and  paper,  which  young  men  acquire  at  the 
university,  they  write  in  so  diminutive  a  manner,  and 
with  such  frequent  blots  and  interlineations  that  their 
writing  is  hardly  legible,"  It  sounds  strange  to  hear 
that  young  men  acquire  "  time  "  and  "paper  "  at  the 
university,  a  place  proverbial  for  wasting  both  ;  but  it 
is  'the  "habit"  which  Swift  meant  to  say  is  acquired. 
It  has  been  demonstrated  that  the  following  paragraph 
of  Dean  Alford's  maybe  read  in  10,240  different  ways, 
only  one  of  which  expresses  the  true  meaning  : 

"  While  treating  of  the  pronunciation  of  those  who 
minister  in  public,  two  other  words  occur  to  me  which 
are  very  commonly  mangled  by  our  clergy.  One  of 
these  (A)  is  ( covetous,'  and  its  substantive  '  covetous- 
ness.'  I  hope  some  who  read  these  lines,  will  be  in- 
•luced  to  leave  off  pronouncing  them  (B)  '  covetious ' 
an  1  '  covetiousness.'  I  can  assure  them  (0)  that  when 
they  (D)  do  thus  call  them9  (E)  one,  at  least,  of  their 
(F)  hearers  has  his  appreciation  of  their  (G)  teaching 
disturbed." 

Mr.  G.  Washington  Moon,  in  "The  Dean's  Eng- 
lish," has  given  the  following  ingenious  criticism  • 


184 


THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 


II    II 

<M        00 


CM 

i—  I 
1C 


II 

00 


03  03  03  03  03          © 

>  >  >  >  >          > 

I  I  I  I  I     I 

03  cS  cS  o3  ri         03 

l«                              O  03  03  <p  0| 

5                   rS  -9  'S  rd 

^2* 

^                          X  X  X  X  X         X 

:  :  :    s 
:::::? 

co  m  oJ  co  I 

>,                             03  03  03  03 

.2  .2  .2  .2 

s  5 : 1  "i  i  a 

wT  osT  M  5°  oT        CD 

I  I  I  I  I       I 

*        .     g  g  8  §  § 

2        ^  •  *  '  *  "'  ~  1 

,§     tS  fe  **  ^  &B    12 

°          g  03  03  S  S          S 

o     13  13  13  13  13     13 

DO           DQ  DO  CD  t/2  CO           CO 

O          O  O  O  O  O          O 

t£          ^  ^  ^  ^  ^          ^ 

d      s    a  a  ^  a  .a    .s 

O  0303030303C303 

fi 

PQ  o 


LAWS   OF   FOim.  18a 

(c)  What  is  technically  called  the  splitting  of  par/ i 
cles  is  forbidden  by  the  law  of  proximity  of  related  parts 
Thus  the  sentence,  "The  army  arrived  at,  but,  foi 
numerous  reasons,  could  not  proceed  into,  the  town  ;" 
is  better  in  the  form,  "  The  army  arrived  at  the  town, 
but  for  numerous  reasons,  could  not  proceed  into  it." 
When  very  few  words  intervene  between  the  preposi- 
tion and  its  case,  the  objection  is  very  slight,  since  the 
governing  particle  is  not  long  suspended. 

2)  Obscurity. — The  misplacement  of  words  some- 
times produces  such  obscurity  that  the  sentence  seems 
to  be  nonsense.  Most  cases  of  obscurity  resulting  from 
a  violation  of  the" law  of  proximity  are  really  instance? 
*bf  ambiguity  so  absurd  as  to  seem  nonsensical.  Lore1 
Bolingbroke  says  that  "The  minister  who  grows  les& 
by  his  elevation,  like  a  little  statue  on  a  mighty  pedes- 
tal, will  always  have  his  jealousy  strong  about  him.'' 
At  first  glance,  we  may  take  the  phrase,  "like  a  little 
statue  on  a  mighty  pedestal,"  with  the  last  clause ;  but 
the  idea  of  a  little  statue  on  a  pedestal  with  his  jealousy 
strong  about  him  is  nonsensical.  The  obscurity  is 
wholly  removed  by  destroying  the  absurd  ambiguity, 
thus  :  "  The  minister,  who,  like  a  little  statue  on  a 
mighty  pedestal,  grows  less  by  his  elevation,  will  al- 
ways have  his  jealousy  strong  about  him."  The  eru- 
dite Johnson  amuses  and  puzzles  his  readers  with  the 
astonishing  statement  that,  "  This  work  in  its  full  ex- 
tent, 'being  now  afflicted  with  the  asthma,  and  finding 
the  power  of  life  gradually  declining,  he  had  no  longer 
courage  to  undertake/'  It  was  Savage  who  had  the 
asthma,  as  the  sequel  shows,  but  we  do  not  discover 
it  until  we  are  confused  with  the  thought  that  th0 
"work"  was  afflicted. 


186  THE   SCIENCE   OF    RHETORIC. 

From  these  illustrations  it  seems  plain  that  worth 
related  in  thought  should  be  in  close  proximity.  The 
reason  is  twofold  :  (1)  the  English  language  being 
malytic  and  not  formal  like  the  Latin,  position  decides 
what  words  are  modified  ;  and  (2)  the  longer  the  time 
Tvhicli  elapses  between  any  qualifying  expression  and 
the  part  qualified,  the  longer  the  mind  must  retain 
something  which  has  yet  no  force.  The  more  numer- 
ous the  qualifying  expressions,  and  the  more  widely 
they  are  separated  from  what  they  qualify,  the  greater 
the  expenditure  of  mental  power. 

(2)  Parenthetical  Expressions.— While  the  time- 
relation  demands  proximity  of  related  parts,  the  truth- 
relation  often  requires  a  separation  of  them  to  admit 
the  introduction  of  a  necessary  explanation  or  limita- 
tion. The  frequency  of  these  parenthetical  insertions 
depends  on  the  character  of  the  writer's  mind,  and 
their  necessity  on  the  nature  of  his  thought.  Some 
minds  are  troubled  with  an  overwhelming  flood  of 
suggestion  after  the  sentence  is  begun,  without  possess- 
ing sufficient  generalizing  power  to  seize  upon  the  es- 
sential points  and  formulate  general  truths  as  they  ad- 
vance. They  will  introduce  innumerable  conditions 
of  time,  place,  and  circumstance  in  the  midst  of  every 
proposition.  Fullness  of  matter  without  definiteness 
of  form  leads  men  to  the  extremity  of  involved  expres- 
sion. It  is  indeed  a  work  of  art  "to  break  up  this 
huge  fasiculus  of  cycle  and  epicycle  into  a  graceful  suc- 
cession of  sentences,  long  intermingled  with  short,  each 
modifying  the  other,  and  arising  musically  by  links  of 
spontaneous  connection."  A  reviewer  of  Coleridge's 
"Aphorisms"  has  observed  that  the  aphoristic  stjle  is 
an  evasion  of  all  the  difficulties  of  composition.  It  is 


LAWS   OF   FOKM.  18? 

easy  to  state  a  general  truth  in  brief  compass.  "The 
labor  of  composition  begins  when  you  have  to  put  your 
separate  threads  of  thought  into  a  loom  ;  to  weave  them 
into  a  continuous  whole ;  to  connect  them;  to  intro- 
duce them  ;  to  blow  them  out  or  expand  them  ;  to 
carry  them  to  a  close."  * 

The  difficulty,  when  it  is  real,  must  evidently  be 
disposed  of  in  one  of  three  ways  :  (1)  by  inserting  the 
limitation,  modification,  or  explanation, — the  Paren- 
thesis ;  (2)  by  omitting  the  expression, — the  Ellipsis  ; 
or  (3)  by  putting  what  is  omitted  in  another  place, — 
the  Foot-note. 

1)  The  Parenthesis. — In  the  term  "parenthesis" 
are  included  all  expressions  introduced  between  de- 
"pendent  parts  of  a  sentence,  whether  embraced  by  the 
marks  of  parenthesis  or  not.  It  is  a  very  difficult  mat- 
ter to  decide  just  when  these  marks  should  be  used,  and 
when  they  should  not.  Many  writers  embrace  by  com- 
mas matter  which  others  would  enclose  within  marks 
of  parenthesis.  Dr.  Whately  compares  this  to  a  lame 
man's  throwing  away  his  crutches,  to  conceal  his  lame- 
ness. The  Doctor  maintains  that  this  does  not  effect  a 
cure.  He,  at  least,  hobbles  along  honestly,  for  some 
one  has  counted  over  four  hundred  parentheses  in  his 
small  treatise  on  "Logic." 

Dr.  Blair  says  on  the  use  of  parentheses:  "On 
some  occasions,  these  may  have  a  spirited  appearance  ; 
as  prompted  by  a  certain  vivacity  of  thought,  which  can 
glance  happily  aside  as  it  is  going  along.  But,  for  the 
most  part,  their  effect  is  extremely  bad  ;  being  a  sort 
of  wheels  within  wheels  ;  sentences  in  the  midst  of 
sentences  ;  the  perplexed  method  of  disposing  of  some 

*  De  Quincey. 


188  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

thought,  which  a  writer  wants  art  to  introduce  in  its 
proper  place."  * 

It  is  clear  that  explanatory  words  and  clauses  must 
sometimes  be  introduced  between  related  members. 
So  every  form  of  motion  in  machinery  must  be  re- 
tarded by  some  friction.  We  may,  however,  reduce 
the  waste  of  power  to  the  minimum  by  making  the 
suspensions  as  few  and  brief  as  possible  without  im- 
pairing the  sense. 

Dr.  Angus  thinks  parentheses  are  more  endurable 
in  poetry  than  in  prose.  His  reason  is  that  poetry  has 
pleasure  for  its  object  and  "  in  a  pleasant  stroll  men 
more  readily  turn  aside  than  when  engaged  in  business 
pursuits."  f  It  seems  not  to  have  occurred  to  him  that 
men  are  more  willingly  called  away  from  their  work 
than  from  their  enjoyment, — which  is  quite  as  true,  and 
quite  as  pertinent.  The  following  lines  from  Word  \ 
worth  illustrate  the  damaging  effects  of  parenthesr 
upon  poetry : 

"  My  voice  proclaims 
How  exquisitely  the  individual  mind 
(And  the  progressive  powers,  perhaps,  no  less 
Of  the  whole  species)  to  the  external  world 
Is  fitted. — And  how  exquisitely  too 
(Theme  this  but  little  heard  of  among  men) 
The  external  world  is  fitted  to  the  mind." 

The  truth  is,  since  thought  admits  of  suspension 
without  irreparable  damage,  while  feeling  is  absolutely 
dependent  upon  uninterrupted  continuity,  poetry,  just 
in  proportion  as  it  is  true  poetry,  is  affected  by  paren- 
thesis much  more  seriously  than  prose. 

*  Rhetoric,  Lecture  XI. 

\  Hand-Book  of  the  English  Tongue. 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  189 

2)  EllipsiSi — Ellipsis   often   contributes   to    idio- 
matic terseness  of  expression,  and  so  becomes  an  im- 
portant aid  to  the  economy  of  interpreting  power.    On 
the  other  hand,  its  improper  use  may  introduce  confu- 
sion into  speech.     Addison  lias  left  some  very  awkward 
ellipses  ;  as  in  the  sentence,   "  But  in  the  temper  of 
mind  lie  was   then,  he  termed  them  mercies/'   etc. 
Here  he  makes  Sir  Andrew  Freeport  to  be  a  "  temper 
of  mind  "  when  he  intended  to  say  "the  temper  of 
mind  in  which  he  was  then."     The  same  writer  makes 
a   similar  blunder  in  another   instance:    "This  was 
a  reflection  upon  the*  Pope's  sister,  who,  before   the 
promotion  of  her  brother,  was  in  those  circumstances 
that   Pasquin    represented    her."     Was   Pasquin  her 
representative)   or  did  he   represent  her  as   circum- 
stances 9 

Although  ellipsis  is  a  source  of  confusion  in  cases 
where  the  sense  is  affected,  it  contributes  to  brevity 
where  the  construction  alone  requires  that  some- 
thing be  supplied  :  as,  "  Who  steals  my  purse  steals 
trash." 

3)  Toot-Notes. — Foot-notes    often  furnish   an    es- 
cape from  both  parenthesis  and  ellipsis.     Such  excres- 
cences are  omnipresent  reminders  of  the  limitations  of 
language  as  a  medium  of  expression.     Just  in  propor- 
tion as  an  author  allows  this  sign  of  weakness  to  exhibit 
itself,  in  that  proportion  he  publicly  confesses  his  own 
insufficiency,  or  that  of   his  medium.      Yet,    insuffi- 
ciency is  likely  to  show  itself  somewhere.     He  who 
always   writes   short   sentences,    and   puts   his   whole 
thought  into  them,  must  take  a  very  short  sweep  of 
view.     He  who  writes  long  ones,  must  tax  the  inter- 
preting power  of  his  readers.     He  who  constantly  lets 


190  THE   SCIENCE   OF   KHETOKIC. 

his  thoughts  overflow  his  sentences,  and  drip  down 
into  foot-notes,  virtually  abandons  an  artistic  solu- 
tion of  the  great  problem  of  style  for  a  coarse  ex 
pedient. 

We  are  to  consider  the  foot-note  only  AS  its  use  is 
justified  or  condemned  by  our  general  law  of  style3 — 
the  economy  of  interpreting  power.  It  is  surely  very 
distracting  to  disturb  the  progress  of  thought,  and 
make  an  excursion  to  the  bottom  of  the  page,  or  even 
to  the  end  of  the  volume,  for  a  scrap  of  information  so 
alien  to  the  text  that  it  could  not  be  incorporated  in 
it.  Although  it  would  be  a  novelty  in  book  making, 
it  would  be  an  excellent  plan  for  an  author  who  uses 
foot-notes  to  state  in  his  preface  for  what  purpose 
he  uses  them.  If  there  are  two  classes  of  notes,  it 
would  be  well  to  refer  to  each  by  distinct  classes  o, 
characters.  If  some  were  references  to  other  books,  and 
others  gave  details  not  appropriate  for  the  continuous 
text,  it  would  be  easy  to  refer  to  the  first  class  by  num- 
bers, and  to  the  second  by  the  ordinary  reference 
marks.  The  critical  spirit  of  modern  times  and  the 
wide  range  of  literature  require  exact  references  for 
quotations  and  opinions,  and  the  foot-note,  unnecessary 
to  the  ancients  and  unused  by  them,  is  a  convenient 
contrivance  for  meeting  this  demand.  Such  references 
however,  need  not  interfere  with  the  continuity  of 
reading,  provided  it  is  understood  in  the  beginning  for 
what  purpose  they  are  used. 

3.  The  Grammatical  Relations  of  Words. 

Position  is  often  determined  by  grammatical  prin- 
ciples. These  are,  of  course,  to  be  strictly  observed. 
ex3ept  where  a  departure  from  precise  grammatical 


LAWS   OF    FORM.  19] 

order  conduces  greatly  to  some  more  important  element 
of  effect,  as  in  transpositions  for  emphasis.  With  the 
particulars  of  grammar  we  have  nothing  to  do  here,  aa 
grammatical  propriety  is  assumed. 

III.     THE  RELATION  OF   WORDS    TO    THE 

IDEA   AS  A    WHOLE. 

We  have  now  to  consider  words  in  their  relation  to 
the  idea  as  a  whole.  Here  again  we  find  it  necessary  to 
view  words  (l)'in  their  time-relation,  and  (2)  in  their 
truth-relation. 

1.  The  Time- relation  of  Words  to  the 
Whole  Idea. 

The  time-relation  of  words  to  the  idea  as  a  whole 
determines  the  proper  length ,  of  a  sentence.  If  we 
could  discover  how  great  a  number  of  wor^°  the  mind 
can  contain  at  once,  we  might  hope  to  name  the  maxi 
rnurn  allowable  length  of  a  sentence.  This,  however 
is  impossible,  since  much  depends  upon  the  cultivatior 
of  the  mind  addressed,  and  much  upon  the  simplicity 
or  complexity  of  sentential  structure.  It  has  been  ob- 
served that  some  speakers  can  frame  a  very  long  period 
in  which  the  verb  comes  last,  without  losing  the  nomi- 
native. Others  cannot  proceed  far  without  losing  sight 
of  it.  Cases  differ  so  widely  that  no  definite  rule  can 
be  laid  down. 

^Oilg-SC.ntences_are  not  generally  objectionable  be- 
cause of  their  length  ;  but  more  frequently  because  of 
a  faulty  arrangement.  Without  the.n  majestic  mo^^e- 
m en t,  full  description,  climax,  variety,  and  accurately 
modified  thought,  cannot  be  expressed.  A  succession 
of  short  sentences  becomes  monotonous,  unless  relieved 


192  THE   SCIEKCE  OF   RHETORIC. 

by  unusual  sprightliness  of  utterance  or  epigrammatic 
meaning.  The  reading  classes  have  now  become  so 
accustomed  to  long  sentences  that,  if  these  are  clear, 
well  arranged,  and  grow  as  they  advance,  they  occasion 
little  difficulty  in  the  mind  of  a  reader.  Unquestion- 
ably, more  interpreting  power  is  required  to  translate 
into  thought  a  long  sentence  than  a  short  one  ;  but 
generally  less  power  is  needed  than  would  be  required 
to  obtain  possession  of  the  same  thought  if  expressed 
in  a  succession  of  short  sentences.  When  this  is  the 
case  economy  of  power  does  not  preclude  the  use  of 
long  sentences.  A  statement  requiring  great  modifica- 
tion in  order  to  ^nake  it  appear  true  if  put  in  a  short 
sentence  and  afterward  modified  by  a  series  of  others, 
would  often  so  savor  of  paradox  as  to  evoke  the  oppo- 
sition of  the  reader ;  and  then  more  mental  power 
would  be  expended  in  overcoming  this  antagonism 
than  would  be  required  in  the  interpretation  of  a  sen- 
tence containing  a  series  of  conditions  before  the  full 
enunciation  of  the  conclusion.  A  strange  stupidity 
nas  been  exhibited  in  the  wholesale  condemnation  of 
long  'sentences  on  the  ground  of  length  alone.  The 
principal  difference  between  one  long  sentence  and  a 
series  of  short  ones  together  expressing  the  same  ideaT" 
is,  that  in  the  long  sentence  the  relation  of  the  parts, 
—temporal,  causal,  or  illative. — is  expressly  stated  ; 
while  in  a  series  of  short  ones  it  is  left  to  be  inferred. 
Holding  this  in  mind,  it  is  plain  that  the  long  sentence 
with  a  proper  arrangement,  may  often  have  the  advan 
tage  over  a  series  of  short  ones.  The  principle  which 
must  always  determine  the  length  is  the  idea  to  be 
expressed.  How  this  affects  the  case  will  present!) 
appear, 


LA  AYS   OF   FORM.  193 

2.    The  Truth-relation  of  Words  to  the 
Whole  Idea. 

The  truth-relation  of  words  requires  us  to  consider  • 
(1)  the  power  of  words  to  indicate  collateral  and  suc- 
ceeding ideas,  or,  suggcstiveness  ;  and  (2)  the  effect 
of  words  upon  the  whole  expression,  or,  unity. 

(1)  Suggestiveness. — Suggestiveness  relates  (l)  to 
the  Development  of  the  idea ;  and  (2)  to  Collaterals 
associated  more  or  less  loosely. 

1)  The  Development  of  the  Idea.-— Mr.  Landor 

makes  Phocian  say  that  "  Thucydides  and  Demosthenes 
lay  it  down  as  a  rule,  never  to  say  what  they  have  rea- 
son to  suppose  would  occur  to  the  auditor  and  reader 
in  consequence  of  anything  said  before  ;  knowing  that 
^very  one  is  more  pleased  and  more  easily  led  by  us 
/vhen  we  bring  forward  his  thoughts  indirectly  and  im- 
perceptibly, than  when  we  elbow  them  and  outstrip 
diem  with  our  own."  *  Mr.  De  Quincey  thus  speaks 
of  Burke's  composition  : 

"Under  his  treatment  every  truth,  be  it  what  it 
may,  every  thesis  of  a  sentence,  grows  in  the  very  act 
of  unfolding  it.  Take  any  sentence  you  please  from 
Dr.  Johnson,  suppose,  and  it  will  be  found  to  contain 
a  thought — good  or  bad — fully  preconceived.  Where 
as  in  Burke,  whatever  may  have  been  the  preconcep- 
tion, it  receives  a  new  determination  or  inflection  at 
every  clause  of  the  sentence.  Some  collateral  adjunct 
of  the  main  proposition,  some  temperament  or  restraint, 
Borne  oblique  glance  at  its  remote  affinities,  will  invari- 
ably be  found  to  attend  the  progress  of  his  sentences 
— like  the  spray  from  a  waterfall,  or  the  scintillations 

*  Imaginary  Conversation*     L 
9 


194  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

from  the  iron  under  the  blacksmith's  hammer.  Hence, 
while  a  writer  of  Dr.  Johnson's  class  seems  only  to  looi 
back  upon  his  thoughts,  Burke  looks  forward — and 
does  in  fact  advance  and  change  his  own  station  con- 
currently  with  the  advance  of  the  sentence."  * 

The  facts  noticed  by  these  critics  receive  an  expla- 
nation from  our  general  law.  When  a  sentence  is  so 
framed  as  to  render  it  possible  for  the  mind  of  the  in- 
terpreter to  outrun  the  speaker  or  writer  in  reacning 
its  conclusion,  the  mental  action  is  not  truly  interpre- 
tive but  prophetic.  The  mind  is  not  occupied  with  what 
is  said,  but  with  what  is  to  be  said.  The  ease  with 
which  this  is  done  leaves  a  momentary  vacuum  in  the 
attention,  affording  opportunity  for  the  intrusion  ol 
some  side  issue  which  only  diverts  the  mind  from  the 
leading  topics,  and  wastes  its  powers  on  irrelevant 
matters.  This  is  the  experience  of  those  who  listen  to 
sermons  chiefly  consisting  of  Scriptural  quotations  with 
which  they  are  familiar.  Either  sleep  ensues,  or  more 
interesting  subjects  crowd  upon  the  attention  and  lead 
the  thoughts  astray.  Thus  the  interpreting  powers 
are  not  sufficiently  exercised  to  bring  the  ideas  fairly 
before  the  mind. 

2)  Collateral  Ideas, — The  suggestion  of  collateral 
ideas  is  an  important  element  in  style.  There  are 
many  associated  ideas  which  are  to  be  avoided,  and 
many  which  should  be  suggested.  Consummate  skill  is 
necessary  in  the  management  of  this  suggestive  prop 
erty  of  style.  Mr.  Spencer  says  on  this  point  : 

•'  To  select  from  the  sentiment,  scene,  or  event  de- 
scribed, those  typical  elements  which  carry  many  others 
along  with  them  ;  and  so,  by  saying  a  few  things  buj 

*  Essay  on  Rhetoric,  Note  6. 


LAWS  OF  FORM.  195 

suggesting  man}7,  to  abridge  the  description  ;  is  the 
secret  of  producing  a  vivid  impression.  An  extract 
from  Tennyson's  (  Mariana  '  will  illustrate  this  : 

All  day  within  the  dreamy  house, 

The  door  upon  the  hinges  creaked, 
The  blue  fly  sung  i'  the  pane  ;  the  mouse 

Behind  the  moidering  wainscot  shrieked, 
Or  from  the  crevice  peered  about. 

"The  several  circumstances  here  specified  bring 
with  them  many  appropriate  associations.  Our  atten- 
tion is  rarely  drawn  by  the.  buzzing  of  the  fly  in  the 
window,  save  when  every  thing  is  still.  While  the  in- 
mates are  moving  about  the  house,  mice  usually  keep 
silence  ;  and  it  is  only  when  extreme  quietness  reigns 
that  they  peep  from  their  retreats.  Hence  each  of  the 
facts  mentioned,  presupposing  numerous  others,  calls 
up  these  with  more  or  less  distinctness  ;  and  revives 
the  feeling  of  dull  solitude  with  which  they  are  con- 
nected in  our  experience.  Were  all  these  facts  detailed 
instead  of  suggested,  the  attention  would  be  so  frit- 
tered away  that  little  impression  would  be  produced. 
Similarly  in  other  cases.  Whatever  the  nature 
of  the  thought  to  be  conveyed,  this  is  the  key  to 
success."  * 

(2)  Unity.  —  The  subject  of  Unity  naturally  falls 
under  two  divisions  :  (1)  Unity  of  Idea  ;  and  (2)  Uni- 
ty of  Structure. 

1)  Unity  of  Idea.  —  If  a  sentence  express  more 
than  one  principal  idea,  simple  or  complex,  unity  is 
violated.  It  is  not  meant  that  any  part  of  a  sentence 
may  not  be  indefinitely  expanded  ;  for,  so  long  as  ho* 

*  Philosophy  of 


196  THE   SCIEKCE   OF   KIIETORIC. 

mogeneity  is  retained,  any  sentence  may  be  incredibly 
extended.  Hazlitt  is  said  to  have  written  a  sentence 
of  one  hundred  and  ten  lines,  in  which  unity  is  not 
violated.  ]STo  matter  how  short  the  sentence  is,  aa 
loon  as  heterogeneous  ideas  appear,  unity  vanishes.  In 
die  following  short  sentence  from  Ferguson,  we  have 
an  account  of  Cato's  death,  vigor,  age,  justice,  and 
philanthropy,  all  in  one  confused  period  : 

f '  Cato  died  in  the  full  vigor  of  life,  under  fifty ;  he 
was  naturally  warm  and  affectionate  in  his  temper, 
comprehensive  and  impartial,  and  strongly  possessed 
with  the  love  of  mankind." 

The  principle  of  unity  grows  out  of  the  tendency  to 
contemplate  conceptions  as  individuals.  Distinctness 
of  view  results  from  looking  at  one  thing'at  once,  and 
by  itself.  Unity  of  idea  in  the  sentences  of  a  para- 
graph is  what  clearness  of  outline  is  in  a  picture.  If 
the  outlines  are  dim,  all  the  objects  in  the  picture  are 
blended  and  confused  ;  so  the  want  of  unity  in  a  sen- 
tence renders  every  image  indistinct.  This  indistinct- 
ness generally  results  from  one  of  five  causes  :  (1) 
changing  the  subject ;  (2)  changing  the  scene  ;  (3) 
crowding  together  things  unconnected  ;  (4)  long  par- 
entheses ;  and  (5)  tacking  on  supplementary  clauses. 
In  every  such  case  there  is  an  obvious  waste  of  inter- 
preting power. 

2)  Unity  of  Structure. — In  considering  sentences 
with  reference  to  their  unity  of  structure,  it  is  neces 
sary  to  have  a  classification  of  them  according  to  theii 
structure.  Classified  on  this  principle,  sentences  are  : 
(a)  those  which  suspend  the  sense  to  the  end,  or,  Peri- 
odic; (b)  those  which  give  a  completed  meaning  at  more 
than  one  point,  or,  Loose;  and  (c)  those  whose  mem- 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  19? 

bers  are  similar  in  form  and  contrasted  in  meaning,  oj 
Balanced. 

(a)  The  periodic  structure  holds  the   attention  tc 
the  end  of  the  sentence,  but,  if  it  be  long,  requires  I  hi 
suspension    of    the   sense    until    a   part   may   be  lost 
While  it  is  conducive  to  unity  of  idea,  its  advantage  ia 
relative.     It  requires  an  active  mind  to  collect  and  ar- 
range a  number  of  preliminaries,  and  retain  them  until 
the  period  is  closed.     "  Just  as  it  may  cost  a  strong 
man  less  effort  to  carry  a  hundred-weight  from  place 
to  place  at  once,  than  by  a  stone  at  a  time  ;  so,  to  ar> 
active  mind  it  may  be  easier  to  bear  along  all  the  qual- 
ifications of  an  idea  and  at  once  rightly  form  it  when 
named,  than  first  imperfectly  to  conceive  such  an  idea 
and  then  cafry  back  to  it,  one  by  one,  the  details  and 
limitations  afterward  mentioned.     While   conversely, 
as  for  a  boy,  the  only  possible  mode  of  transferring  a 
hundred- weight,  is  that  of  taking  it  in  portions  ;   so, 
for  a  weak  mind,  the  only  possible  mode  of  forming  a 
compound  conception  may  be  that  of  building  it  up  by 
carrying  separately  its   separate   parts."*     Hence  we 
infer  that  the  periodic  structure  is  best  adapted  to  short 
sentences,  and  to  cultivated  hearers. 

(b)  In  a  language  so  little  inflectional  as  ours,  the 
touse  sentence  must  be  of  frequent  occurrence.    JJb  is 
less  favorable  to  unity  than  the  periodic,  since  the  ad- 
ditions may  easily  lapse  into   digressions.     The  inter 
pretation  of  a  loose  sentence  affects  the  mind  as  the  body 
is  affected  by  the  pursuit  of  game  which  is  every  mo- 
ment feigning  to  halt,    but    still   runs    on.     If   the 
game  be  worth  catching,  the  chase  is  interesting,  bui 
both  provoking  and  exhausting. 

*  Spencer. 


i98  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

(c)  The  balanced  sentence  possesses  several  impor- 
tant excellences.     It  is  a  kind  of  ledger-page  in  mini 
ature,  on  which  the  debit  and  credit  are  put  before  the 
mind  at  once.     Its  force  is  felt  in  such  a  series  of  sen- 
tences as  this  : 

"  The  style  of  Dryden  is  capricious  and  varied,  that  of  Pope 
is  cautious  and  uniform.  Dryden  obeys  the  motions  of  his  own 
will,  Pope  constrains  his  mind  to  his  own  rule  of  composition. 
Dryden  is  sometimes  vehement  and  rapid,  Pope  is  always  smooth 
uniform,  and  level.  Dryden's  page  is  a  natural  field,  rising 
into  inequalities,  and  diversified  by  the  varied  exuberance  of 
abundant  vegetation,  Pope's  is  a  velvet  lawn,  shaven  by  the 
scythe,  and  leveled  by  the  roller." 

Both  the  memory  and  the  imagination  are  aided  by 
the  balanced  structure.  The  principle  «f  contrast, 
which  will  be  explained  in  another  place,  renders  it  a 
means  of  economizing  mental  power. 

The  principle  of  variety,  so  important  in  style, 
allows  the  moderate  use  of  each  form  of  structure,  and 
an  ingenious  combination  of  all  displays  much  higher 
attainments  in  art  than  a  slavish  devotion  to  any  single 
model.  The  principal  advantage  accruing  from  the 
study  of  sentential  structure  is,  that  we  may  know  the 
peculiar  excellences  of  each  form,  and  be  able  to  apply 
that  knowledge  when  we  wish  to  make  our  words  a 
expressive  as  possible.  No  writer  or  speaker  can  spend 
a  long  time  upon  every  sentence,  yet,  in  elaborate  pro- 
ductions, where  care  and  labor  are  nothing  compared 
with  the  result  aimed  at,  these  principles  will  be  of 
practical  value. 

IV.     THE    COMBINATION   OF   SENTENCES. 

We  have   now   considered   the  various  condition 

affecting  the  structure  of  the  sentence.     "  But  it  is  in 


LA\VS   OF   FORM.  199 

the  relation  of  sentences,  in  what  Horace  terms  theit 
*junctv.rd)  that  the  true  life  of  composition  resides. 
The  mode  of  their~7/£.r?/,s, — the  way  in  which  one  sen- 
tence is  made  to  arise  out  of  another,  and  to  prepare 
the  opening  for  a  third, — this  is  the  great  loom  in 
which  the  textile  process  of  the  moving  intellect  -reveals 
itself  and  prospers.  Here  the  separate  clauses  of  a 
period  become  architectural  parts,  aiding,  relieving, 
supporting  one  another/''  * 

in  the  progress  of  a  paragraph,  two  tilings  jire  neces- 
sary :  first,  that  each  sentence  express  some  idea  not 
expressed  in  the  preceding  ;  and,  secondly,  that  the 
idea  have  some  relation  to  the  preceding  idea.  Al- 
though not  necessarily  opposed  to  each  other,  these 
two  conditions  are  not  always  easily  fulfilled  at  the 
same  time,  since  progress  in  discourse  is  a  movement 
away  from  the  ideas  already  expressed,  and  yet  these 
preceding  ideas  must  be  kept  in  mind  in  order  to  show 
the  connection.  Interpreting  power  is  wasted  when  the 
connection  between  successive  statements  is  obscure, 
and  also  when  there  is  a  full  repetition  of  an  idea  al- 
^ready  expressed.  Thejhighest  excellence  consists  in  a 
judicious  yielding  to  each  condition.  This  may  be 
done  in  several  ways. 

1.  Progressive  Development. 

All  great  writers  employ  a  progressive  development 
ir  the  succession  of  their  sentences.  Thus  Carlyle  does 
not  say,  "Nothing  dies,  nothing  can  die,"  and  then 
leap  to  the  conclusion  that,  since  God  knows  our  con- 
versation, a  Boswell  need  not  shrink  from  reporting  it 

*  De  QuiDcey,  Essay  on  Language 


200  THE    SCIENCE   OF   KHETOUJC. 

He  docs  not  leave  even  so  narrow  a  chasm  to  cross,  but 
develops  his  thought  by  increments  : 

"  Nothing  dies,  nothing  can  die.  No  idlest  word  thou  sprak 
est  but  is  a  seed  cast  into  Time,  and  grows  through  all  Eternity 
The  Recording  Angel,  consider  it  well,  is  no  fable,  but  thetrues\ 
of  truths ;  the  paper  tablet  thou  canst  burn  ;  of  the  '  iron  leaf  ' 
there  is  no  burning.  Truly,  if  we  can  permit  God  Almighty  tc 
note  down  our  conversation,  thinking  it  good  enough  for  Him, 
any  poor  Boswell  need  not  scruple  to  work  his  will  with  it." 

Here  the  general  statement  that  nothing  dies  is 
made  to  apply  specifically  to  'words  ;  the  deathlessness 
of  a  word  is  represented  under  the  image  of  a  seed ; 
the  agent  of  preservation  is  brought  to  view  by  the 
mention  of  the  recording  angel;  the  means  are  ex- 
plained by  the  allusion  to  the  "  iron  leaf.77  It  is  then 
an  easy  step  to  the  assumption  that  God  notes  down 
our  conversation. 

2.  Explicit  Reference. 

The  explicit  reference  is  a  means  of  economizing 
interpreting  power  in  the  progress. of  discourse.  It 
consists  in  a  running  reference  to  antecedent  state- 
ments. De  Quincey  is  especially  distinguished  for  its 
felicitous  use.  The  following  illustrates  it : 

"If  we  do  submit  to  this  narrow  valuation  of  style,  founded 
JH  the  interest  of  the  subject  to  which  it  is  ministerial,  still,  even  on 
that  basis,  we  English  commit  a  capital  blunder  which  the  French 
earnestly  and  sincerely  escape ;  for,  assuming  that  the  thought* 
involve  the  primary  interest,  still  it  must  make  all  the  difference 
in  the  world  to  the  success  of  those  thoughts,  whether  they  are 
treated  in  the  way  best  fitted  to  expel  the  doubts  or  darkness 
that  may  have  settled  on  them." 

The  explicit  references  are  marked  by  italics.     In 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  201 

this  example,  they  are  more  numerous  than  necessary, 
Skillfully  used,  they  often  obviate  the  ambiguous  em- 
ployment of  the  pronoun.  When  the  pronoun  is  used 
for  reference,  the  uncertainty  of  the  true  antecedent 
may  require  a  closer  attention  and  a  more  frequent  re* 
current  movement  of  the  mind  than  most  readers  are 
willing  to  bestow. 

3.  Necessity  of  a  Theme. 

Since  the  placing  of  one  sentence  after  another 
does  not  constitute  progress  in  discourse,  unless  the 
nexus  between  the  succeeding  parts  is  obvious,  it  is 
important  that  sentences  should  rise  out  of  each  other. 
True  progress  in  discourse  involves  a  constant  move- 
ment, either  toward  or  away  from  some  proposition  or 
state  of  feeling  in  the  writer's  mind.  Hence,  j^very 
paragraph  should  have  its  theme.  This  may  be  stated 
at  the  beginning,  and  from  it  as  a  starting  point  the 
writer  may  make  an  excursion,  gathering  up  facts, 
illustrations,  and  arguments,  with  which  to  enrich  it-  • 
or  it  may  be  withheld,  and  these  materials  may  be  first 
collected,  and  the  theme  deduced  from  them.  But,  in 
any  case,  there  must  be  movement,  and  movement  in 
a  given  direction,  or  there  is  a  waste  of  interpreting 
power. 

4.  Value  of  Analysis. 

Not  only  every  paragraph,  but  every  group  of  para- 
graphs should  have  a  theme^  A  progressive  and 
jiethodical  analysis  'should,  therefore,  precede,  every 
synthetic  eiloit.  "It  is  from  fault  of  plan,"  saya 
Buff  on,  "it  is  from  not  having  reflected  upon  his  sub- 
ject, that  a  man  of  mind  finds  himself  embarrassed,  and 


202  THE  SCIEKCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

knows  not  where  to  commence  to  write.  He  perceives 
at  once  a  great  number  of  ideas  ;  and,  us  he  lias 
aeither  compared  nor  subordinated  them,  nothing  de- 
termines him  to  prefer  some  to  others  ;  he  still  remains 
x  perplexity."  * 

*  Discours  sur  le  Style. 


THE  ECONOMY    OF    INTERPRETING   POWER 
IN     FIGURATIVE     LANGUAGE. 

1.  Definition  of  Figures. 

A  FIGURE  of  speech  is  an  expression  in  which  one 
thing  is  said  in  the  form  of  another  related  to  it. 
Figures  are  usually  divided  into  figures  of  orthography, 
etymology,  syntax,  and  rhetoric.  The  first  three 
classes  are  grammatical,  and  will  not  be  treated  here. 
All  figures  not  grammatical  may  be  classed  as  rhetori- 
cal, and  will  be  treated  in  detail.  Quintilian's  distinc- 
tion between  tropes  and  figures  is  of  no  practical  value. 

2.  Laws  of  Association. 

In  treating  of  a  train  of  thought,  it  was  stated  that 
deas  are  associated  in  the  mind  according  to  certain 
fixed  pwncipies,  and  that  their  succession  in  the  mind 
depends  upon  that  association.  "  Philosophers,  having 
observed  that  one  thought  determined  another  to  arise, 
and  that  this  determination  only  took  place  between 
thoughts  which  stood  in  certain  relations  to  each  other, 
set  themselves  to  ascertain  and  classify  the  kinds  of 
correlation  under  which  this  occurred,  in  order  to  gen- 
eralize the  laws  by  which  the  phenomenon  of  Repro- 
duction was  governed.  Accordingly,  it  has  been 
established,  that  thoughts  are  associated,  that  is,  are 


204  THE   SCIENCE   OF    RHETORIC. 

able  to  excite  each  other  :  (1)  if  coexistent,  or  imme- 
diately successive  in  time  ;  (2)  if  their  objects  are 
conterminous  or  adjoining  in  space  ;  (3)  if  they  hold 
the  dependence  to  each  other  of  cause  and  effect,  or  of 
mean  and  end,  or  of  whole  and  part  ;  (4)  if  they  stand 
in  a  relation  either  of  contrast  or  of  similarity  ;  (5)  if 
they  are  the  operations  of  the  same  power,  or  of  differ- 
ent powers  conversant  about  the  same  object ;  (6)  if 
their  objects  are  the  sign  and  the  signified  ;  or  (7)  even 
if  their  objects  are  accidentally  denoted  by  the  same 
sound."* 

3.  These  Laws  Reduced  16  Three. 

These  conditions  were  reduced  by  Aristotle  to  three 
and  may  be  summed  up  in  one,  that  "  Thoughts  that 
have  once  coexisted  in  the  mind  are  afterward  associ- 
ated." Eor  our  purpose,  however,  Aristotle's  three- 
fold division  will  be  most  convenient.  We  shall,  then, 
«gard  these  laws  of  association  as  three  :  (1)  Resem- 
blance ;  (2)  Contiguity;  and  (3)  Contrast.  That  is, 
conceptions  having  resemblance,  contiguity,  or  con- 
trast, are  associated  together. 

4.  Use  of  these  Laws, 

These  being  the  tracks,  so  to  speak,  on  which  all 
minds  run,  it  is  evident  that  we  may  determine  from 
them  both  why  figures  improve  style,  and  what  figures 
are  advantageous. 

(1)  Why  Figures  Improve  Style.— In  all  minds, 

objects,    acts   and   relations  are  associated  by  resem* 

blance,  contiguity,  and  contrast ;  that  is,  objects  which 

resemble  each    other,  are   contiguous  to   each  other, 

*  Sir  Wm.  Hamilton's  Metaphysics. 


LAWS    OF   FOHM.  205 

or  are  contrasted  with  each  other,  mutually  sug- 
gest each  other.  Some  names  are  more  specific 
and  concrete  than  others  associated  with  them 
through  resemblance,  contiguity,  or  contrast  in  the 
objects.  Hence  interpreting  power  may  sometimes  bo 
economized  by  selecting  from  associated  objects,  acts, 
and  relations,  the  most  specific  and  concrete.  This  is 
done  by  figures,  in  which  the  general  and  the  abstract 
ai'e  expressed  in  the  form  of  the  specific  and  concrete. 
They  are,  therefore,  to  style  what  diagrams  are  to 
Geometry,  experiments  to  Chemistry,  or  maps  to  Geog- 
raphy. They  render  shadowy  abstractions  visible  and 
tangible,  and  so  economize  interpreting  power. 

(2)  What  Figures  are  Advantageous,— In  order 
to  determine  wliat  figures  are  conducive  to  this  end, 
we  must  consider  these  laws  of  association  separately, 
and  note  in  what  manner  they  may  be  applied  to 
economize  interpreting  power.  We  proceed  to  do  this 
:n  the  following  sections. 

SECTION  I. 

FIGURES  FOUNDED   ON 
RESEMBLANCE. 

Figures  founded  on  resemblance  may  be  divided 
into  two  main  classes  :  (1)  those  in  which  the  resem- 
blance is  stated^  and  (2)  those  in  which  the  resem- 
blance is  implied.  In  the  first  division  falls  SIMILE, 
which  explicitly  states  the  resemblance.*  In  the  sec- 

*  Dr.  Campbell's  distinction  between  Simile  and  Comparison 
is  of  small  practical  value.  He  says  :  "  The  difference  is  tlus: 
Simile  is  no  more  than  a  comparison  suggested  in  a  word  01 


206  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

ond  are  METAPHOR,  in  which  the  implied  resemblance  ia 
to  vividly  conceived  as  to  be  taken  for  identity ;  PER- 
bOXiFiCATiox,  in  which  the  resemblance  of  an  inanimate 
object  to  a  person  is  so  forcibly  felt  as  to  be  assumed  • 
and  ALLEGORY,  in  which  the  resemblance  is  made  to 
extend  to  a  number  of  details.  These  figures  will  now 
be  considered  in  separate  divisions. 

I.    SIMILE. 
1.  Forms  of  Simile. 

Simile  assumes  four  forms,  i.  e.,  it  may  be  founded 
on  (1)  direct  resemblance  ;  (2)  resemblance  of  causes , 
(3)  resemblance  of  effects ;  or  (4)  resemblance  of 
ratios. 

(1)  Direct     Resemblance. — Direct    resemblance, 
contrary  to  a  natural  presupposition,  is  the  leastjcom- 
mon  and  the  least  useful  of  the  four  kinds  of  simile. 
The  reason  of  this  isflbhat,  in  order  to  assist  the  mind 
in  forming  a  conception,  the  objects  compared  must 
belong  to  different  classes  ;  but,  if  of  different  classes, 
they  are  likely  to  have  no  direct  similitude.     This  ia 
not  always  so.     Tennyson  thus  describes  a  miller  : 

"  Him,  like  the  working  bee  in  blossom  dust, 
Blanched  with  his  mill,  they  found." 

Here  there  is  a  direct  resemblance  between  blossom 
dust  and  the  flour  on  the  miller's  clothing,  yet  the  two 
objects  compared  belong  to  different  classes. 

(2)  Resemblance    of    Causes. — The  resemblance 

two.  Comparison  is  a  simile  circumstantiated  and  included  in 
one  or  more  separate  sentences."—  Philosophy  of  Rlwtorw. 


LAWS   OF  FORM.  207 

of  causes  is  more  common  than  the  direct  resemblance. 

An  illustration  is  furnished  byDryden  : 

"  I  scarcely  understand  my  own  intent ; 
But,  silk-worm  like,  so  long  within  have  wroaght 
That  I  am  lost  in  iny  own  web  of  thought.'1 

If  we  inquire  of  what  resemblance  is  here  predi- 
cated, the  answer  is,  not  of  the  poet  and  a  silk-worm, 
for  there  is  no  resemblance  between  them,  but  of  the 
internal  process  of  both  poet  and  silk-worm.  A  mode 
of  intellectual  life  is  compared  to  a  mode  of  insect  life, 
in  order  to  show  a  resemblance  between  the  cause  of 
the  poet's  bewilderment  and  the  cause  of  the  insect's 
entanglement.  As  the  internal  operations  of  the  in- 
sect result  in  its  own  entanglement,  so  the  reflections  of 
the  poet  result  in  his  bewilderment. 

(3)   Resemblance  of  Effects.— Nothing  is  more 

evident  than  that  widely  different  objects  may  produce 
similar  effects  upon  the  mind.  Few  things  are  more 
unlike  in  themselves  than  painting  and  poetry,  stat- 
uary and  music,  yet  we  often  hear  allusions  to  "  word- 
painting,"  and  hear  statuary  defined  as  "  marble  music." 
All  art  has*  a  common  basis.  "The  fountain  from 
which  all  the  fine  arts  flow  is  precisely  the  same.  It  is 
the  power  of  creating  in  our  own  minds  images  of 
beauty  or  sublimity."  Hence  the  resemblance  of 
effects  is  a  fertile  source  of  simile.  Mr.  Longfellow's 
simile  in  the  following  lines  1  <as  been  criticised  as  "  far- 
fetched :" 

"  The  day  is  done,  and  the  darkness 
Falls  from  the  wing  of  night, 
As  a  feather  is  wafted  downward 
From  an  eagle  in  his  flight." 


208  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

If  every  simile  must  be  a  configuration,  this  maybe 
faulty,  but  that  is  an  assumption  wholly  without  proof. 
The  poet  wishes  to  convey  the  idea  of  the  gentle  and 
silent  descent  of  darkness,  and  in  the  whole  realm  of 
imagery  he  could  not  have  chosen  a  more  appropriate 
emblem  of  combined  gentleness  and  silence  of  move- 
ment than  the  falling  feather.  The  effect  of  approach- 
ing darkness  and  the  effect  of  a  falling  feather,  to  the 
mind,  are  similar  from  the  fact  that  they  produce  in 
the  mind  similar  emotions. 

(4)  Resemblance  of  Ratios.— The. greatest  num- 
ber of  similes  are  based  upon  analogy,  or  the  re- 
semblance of  ratios.  Similes  of  this  class  are  of  great 
value  to  expression.  If  an  object,  cause  or  efrect  may 
be  likened  directly  to  something  else,  it  must  be  some- 
what simple  by  nature,  and  hence  easily  understood 
without  comparison.  Similes  based  on  analogy,  in- 
volving a  similarity  not  of  things  but  of  relations,  must 
contribute  more  to  rendering  the  general  and  abstract 
comprehensible.  In  figures  of  this  kind  direct  resem- 
blance may  be  wholly  wanting.  Thus  there  is  no  like- 
ness between  a  man  and  fruit  on  a  tree,  or  a  clock,  yet 
Dry  den  very  forcibly  says  : 

"  Of  no  distemper,  of  no  blast  he  died, 

But  fell  like  autumn  fruit  that  mellowed  long, 
E'en  wondered  at  because  he  dropped  no  sooner. 
Fate  seemed  to  wind  him  up  for  four-score  years, 
Yet  freshly  ran  he  on  ten  winters  more, 
Till,  like  a  clock  worn  out  with  eating  time, 
The  wheels  of  weary  life  at  last  stood  still." 

Here  the  comparison  is  not  between  things,  ":ut  oe 
tiveen  relations. 

The  following  from  Burns  demonstrates  that  a  sim-_ 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  209 

jlcjdoes  not  necessarily  imply  any  direct  resemblance 
of  things,  or  more  than  a  single  point  of  resemblance 
between  relations,  since  pleasures  are  happily  compared 
to  several  objects  between  which  there  is  no  similitude 
«uid  only  one  common  property, — evanescence  * 

"  Ah  !  pleasures  are  like  poppies  spread — 
You  seize  the  flower,  the  bloom  is  shed ; 
Or  like  the  boreal  is'  race, 
That  flit  ere  you  can  point  their  place  ; 
Or  like  the  snow-flakes  on  the  river, 
A  moment  white — then  dark  forever ; 
Or  like  the  rainbow's  lovely  form, 
Evanishing  amid  the  storm." 

Indeed,  the  most  attenuated  resemblances  between 
things  affect  us  most  agreeably,  if  there  be  a  real 
resemblance  between  their  relations.  Thus  Shelley 
ventures  to  the  Ultima  Thule  of  similitude  for  this 
exquisite  simile  : 

"  Our  boat  is  asleep  on  Tercliio's  stream  ; 
Its  sails  are  folded  like  thoughts  in  a  dream" 

Comparison  is  pictorial  speech.  It  serves  the 
same  purpose  in  language  that  pictures  do  in  books. 
Every  one  feels  that  he  derives  a  clearer  idea  of  any 
thing  from  a  picture,  or  even  from  a  rude  diagram, 
than  from  words  alone.  By  presenting  two  objects  to 
the  mind  at  once,  and  affirming  a  likeness  between 
their  causes,  effects,  or  relations,  an  abstract  thought 
becomes  clear  through  the  concrete  image. 

2.  Laws  of  Simile. 

Although  interpreting  power  is  economized  by  the 
ase  of  comparison,  the  utility  of  it  depends  upon  some 
special  laws. 


210  THE   SCIENCE   OF   KHE10RIC. 

(1)  Similar  Objects. — There  is  evidently  jwj 
omy  when  the  resemblance  is  found  between  exactly 
similar  objects  or  acts.     Thus  in  Pope's  Homer,  one 
fight  is  compared  to  another  : 

"  Nor  could  the  Greeks  repel  the  Lycian  powers, 
Nor  the  bold  Lycians  force  the  Grecian  towers. 
As,  on  the  confines  of  adjoining  grounds, 
Two  stubborn  swains  with  blows  dispute  their  bounds ; 
They  tug,  they  sweat ;  but  neither  gain  nor  yield, 
One  foot,  one  inch,  of  the  contended  field." 

If  such  a  comparison  has  any  justification,  it  is,  that 
the  complex  is  made  simple  by  making  the  general  fight 
an  individual  combat. 

(2)  Vague   Resemblances.— There  is  no  economy 
when  the  resemblance  is  vague.     Quinfeilian,  speaking 
of  comparison,  says  :    "  In   this   kind   of   figure  it  is 
especially  important  to  guard  against  that  which  we 
use  for  the  sake  of  a  comparison  being  either  obscure 
ar  unknown  ;  for  that  which  is  used  to  illustrate  some- 
thing else  should  itself  be  plainer  than  that  which  it 
illustrates."  * 

Mrs.  Browning,  usually  so  felicitous  in  her  choice 
of  figures,  writes  : 

"  Then  the  bitter  sea 
Inexorably  pushed  between  us  both ; 
And  sweeping  up  the  ship  with  my  despair. 
Threw  us  out  as  a  pasture  to  the  stars." 

Of  this  Peter  Bayne  justly  says  : 

"No  Ossianic  juvenile  ever  perpetrated  purer  non- 
sense. What  possible  resemblance  there  can  be  between 
:>  ship  and  a  pasture  ;  why  and  when  stars  go  out  tjj 

*  Institutes,  Book  VIII,  III.,  73. 


liWS   OP  FOftM.  211 

grass  ;  and  wherefore  having  so  gone,  they  should  feed 
on  ships  and  young  ladies, — these  are  questions  of  in- 
soluble mystery."  * 

(3)  Simpler  Objects. — It  is  plain  that  simile  jnost 
economizes  mental  power  when  it  compares  the  com- 
plex to  the  simple,  the  mental  to   the  physical.     Aris- 
Totle  f  cites  Plato's  comparison  of  the  populace  to  "a 
pilot  strong,  but  rather  deaf."     Here  the  complex  idea 
of  the  power  and  folly  of  a  mob  is  reduced  to  a  simple 
one  under  the  figure  of  a  single  person  guiding  a  vessel, 
strong  enough  to  move  it  at  his  will,  but  deaf  to  the 
sound  of  breakers  and  of  warning.     The  sacrifice  of 
one's  self  for  the  benefit  of  others,  and  the  gradual  loss 
of  strength  in  their  service,  is  a  moral  conception  some- 
what complex  in  its  nature;  but  Antisthenes  beautifully 
concreted  it  into  a  picture  when  he  likened  Cephisido- 
tus  the  slim  to  frankincense,  for  "in  its  consumption 
it  spreads  universal  delight." 

(4)  The  Position  of  Parts  in  a  Simile.— The  posi- 
tion of  parts  in  a  simile  is  important  to  its  effect.     Both 
Aristotle  and  Quintilian  overlook   this.     The  former 
says  nothing  on  the  subject,  while  the  latter  gives  no 
principle  as  a  guide,  simply  declaring  that  the  illus- 
trated or  the  illustrative  member  may  come  first,  as 
circumstances  direct. J     Mr.  Spencer   has  enunciated 
a  valuable  law  for  the  position  of  the  parts  of  a  simile. 
"As  whatever   qualifies   should   precede   whatever  is 
qualified,  ^orcejvillje-neniny  be  gained  by  placing  the 
timile  [illustrative  member]  before  the  object  to  which 
it  is  applied.     That  this  arrangement  is  the  best,  ma) 

*  Essays.  f  Rhetoric,  Book  III,  Chap,  iv.,  §  3 

J  Institutes,  Book  VIII,  III.,  77. 


212  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

bo  seen  in  the  following  passage  from  the  '  Lady  of  the 
Lake  : 

f  As  wreath  of  sn  >w,  on  mountain  breast, 

Slides  from  the  rock  that  gave  it  rest, 

Poor  Ellen  glided  from  her  stay, 

And  at  the  monarch's  feet  she  lay.' 

"  Inverting  these  couplets  will  be  found  to  diminish 
the  effect  considerably.  There  are  cases,  however, 
even  where  the  simile  is  a  simple  one,  in  which  it  may 
with  advantage  be  placed  last ;  as  in  these  lines  from 
Alexander  Smith's  '  Life  Drama  : ' 

4 1  see  the  future  stretch 
All  dark  and  barren  as  a  rainy  sea.' 

"  The  reason  for  this  seems  to  be,  that  so  abstract 
an  idea  as  that  attaching  to  the  word  'future,'  does 
not  present  itself  to  the  mind  in  any  definite  form  ; 
mid  hence  the  subsequent  arrival  at  the  simile  [illus- 
trative member]  entails  no  reconstruction  of  the 
thought. 

' '  Such,,  however,  are  not  the  only  cases  in  which  this 
order  is  the  more  forcible.  As  the  advantage  of  put- 
ting the  simile  before  the  object  depends  on  its  being 
carried  forward  in  the  mind  to  assist  in  forming  an 
image  of  the  object ;  it  must  happen  that  if,  from 
length  or  complexity,  it  cannot  be  so  carried  forward, 
the  advantage  is  not  gained.  The  annexed  sonnet 
from  Coleridge  is  defective  from  this  cause  : 

4  As  when  a  child,  on  some  long  winter's  night, 
Affrighted,  clinging  to  its  grandam's  knees, 
With  eager  wond'ring  and  perturb'd  delight 
Listens  strange  tales  of  fearful  dark  decrees, 


LAWS  OF  FORM.  213 

Muttered  to  wretch  by  necromantic  spell  ; 
Or  of  those  hags  who  at  the  witching  time 
Of  murky  midnight,  ride  the  air  sublime, 
And  mingle  foul  embrace  with  fiends  of  hell ; 
Cold  horror  drinks  its  blood  I     Anon  the  tear 
More  gentle  starts,  to  hear  the  beldame  tell 
Of  pretty  babes,  that  loved  each  other  dear, 
Murdered  by  cruel  uncle's  mandate  fell : 
Ev'n  such  the  shiv'ring  joys  thy  tones  impart, 
Ev'n  so,  thou,  Siddons,  meltest  my  sad  heart/ 

"Here,  from  the  lapse  of  time  and  accumulation  of 
circumstances,  the  first  part  of  the  comparison  is  for- 
gotten before  its  application  is  reached  ;  and  requires 
re-reading.  Had  the  main  idea  been  first  mentioned 
less  effort  would  have  been  required  to  retain  it,  and  to 
modify  the  conception  of  it  into  harmony  with  the 
comparison,  than  to  remember  the  comparison  and  re- 
fer back  to  its  successive  features  for  help  in  forming 
the  final  image. " 

II.    METAPHOR. 

1.    Nature  of  Metaphor. 

In  the  metaphor,  resemblance  is  not  formally  ex- 
pressed, but  so  emphatically  implied  as  to  affirm  an 
identity  of  the  objects  compared.  Thus  Byron  so 
vividly  realized  the  resemblance  between  the  swaying 
of  a  suspended  ball  and  man's  oscillation  between  joy 
and  sorrow,  as  to  identify  the  two  in  his  thought  in 
the  beautiful  line  in  which  he  says  of  man, 

"  Thou  pendulum  between  a  smile  and  tear." 


214  THE  SCIENCE  OP  RHETORIC. 

2.  Superiority  of  Metaphor  to  Simile. 

It  is  apparent  that  the  metaphor  surpasses  the 
simile  in  fpro&  This  is  owing  partly  to  its  greater 
brevity,  and  partly  to  the  higher  degree  of  unity  in 
metaphorical  expression.  Dr.  Whately  *  points  out 
the  feebleness  of  the  simile  as  compared  with  the  meta- 
phor in  the  following  expressions  :  "  Cromwell  treated 
the  laws  with  the  same  contempt  as  a  man  does  any 
thing  which  he  tramples  under  his  feet ;"  and  "  Crom- 
well trampled  the  laws  under  his  feet."  He  gives  no 
explanation  of  the  cause  of  the  superiority  of  the  meta- 
phor. The  cause  seems  to  be,  that  the  metaphor  is 
brief  and  suggests  a  simple  imagej  while  the  simile  is 
long  and  presents  a  complex  image,— Cromwell,  and  a 
shadowy  somebody  who  is  trampling  an  unknown 
something  under  his  feet. 

3.   Metaphor  Based  on  Analogy. 

Most  metaphors  are   based  on  analogy,  or  resem 
olance  of  relations.     A  single  illustration  will  suffice 
There  is  no  direct  resemblance  between  a  lock  in  a  ca 
nal,    and   a  poet,   yet  Lowell   very  forcibly  says    of 
Dry  den  : 

"He  was  the  lock  that  let  our  language  down  from 
its  point  of  highest  poetry  to  its  level  of  easiest  and 
most  gentle  flowing  prose." 

The  resemblance  here  implied  is  between  the  rela- 
tion of  the  lock  to  the  water  level,  and  Dryden's  rela- 
tion to  style.  If  this  obvious  principle  were  more 
widely  understood,  many  a  stupid  criticism  would  be 
deprived  of  its  sting. 

*  Rhetoric,  Part  III.  Chap.  ii.  §  8. 


LAWS  OF  FORM.  215 

4.  Laws  of  Metaphor. 

Some  important  laws  for  the  use  of  metaphor  arc 
derived  from  the  economy  of  interpreting  power. 
* — (1)  Necessity  of  Clearness. — Since,  from  the  na- 
ture of  metaphor,  the  resemblance  is  merely  implied 
it  should  be  easily  perceived.  "  It  would  be  harsh 
and  obscure  to  say,  '  the  stranded  vessel  lay  shaken  by 
the  waves/ meaning  '  the  wounded  chief  tossing  on  the 
bed  of  sickness  ;'  it  is  therefore  necessary  to  state  the 
resemblance."  *  When  the  case  does  not  admit  of  pure 
metaphor,  but  would  also  have  an  air  of  clumsiness  if 
simile  were  employed,  an  ingenious  device  is  to  unite 
the  two  figures  in  the  same  expression.  Sir  Walter 
Scott  furnishes  examples  of  a  simile  explained  by  a 
series  of  metaphors,  and  a  metaphor  explained  by  a 
Bimile.  He  says  of  a  morbid  fancy, 

" like  the  bat  of  Indian  brakes, 

Her  pinions  fan  the  wound  slie  makes, 
And  soothing  thus  the  dreamer's  pain, 
She  drinks  the  life-blood  from  the  vein." 

" Like  "introduces  a  comparison,  and  the  last  three 
lines  are  explanatory  metaphors.     Again, 

"  They  melted  from  the  field  as  snow 
When  streams  are  swollen,  and  south  winds  blow, 
Dissolves  in  silent  dew." 

"Here  "melted"  is  a  metaphor,  explained  by  the 
simile  introduced  by  "as." 

(2)  Blending  Plain  and  Figurative  Language.— 

Although  two  figures  of  cognate  import  may  be  thus 
united  in  the  same  expression,  confusion  results  from 

*  Whately. 


216  THE  SCIEKCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

the  blending  of  plain  and  figurative  language.     Shake 
gpearc  has  exemplified  the  fault  in  these  lines  : 

"  This  precious  stone  set  in  the  sea, 
Which  serves  it  in  the  office  of  a  wall, 
Or  as  a  moat  defensive  to  a  house 
Against  the  envy  of  less  happier  lands." 

A  moat  might  be  a  useful  defense  against  an  army} 
but  would  not  be  a  protection  against  envy. 

, „  (3)  Mixing  Metaphors. — The  mixing  of  metaphors 

is  a  common  but  gross  fault,  as  when  the  excited  advo- 
cate exclaimed  :  "  I  smell  a  mouse  ;  it  is  floating  in 
the  air;  but  we  will  nip  it  in  the  bud."  This  fault 
is  pointed  out  with  a  refinement  of  sarcasm  in  the  fol- 
lowing passage  of  the  "Behearsal  :'* 

"Physician. — Sir,  to  conclude,  the  place  you  fill  has 
more  than  amply  exacted  the  talents  of  a  wary  pilot ; 
and  all  these  threatening  storms,  which,  like  impreg- 
nate clouds,  hover  o'er  our  heads,  will,  when  they  are 
but  grasped  by  the  eye  of  reason,  melt  into  fruitful 
showers  of  blessing  on  the  people. 

Bayes. — Pray,  mark  that  allegory.  Is  not  that 
good  ? 

Johnson. — Yes,  that  grasping  of  a  storm  with  the 
eye  is  admirable  ! " 

(4)  Straining  Metaphors. — A  metaphor  loses  its 
value  as  an  aid  to  interpretation  if  it  is  strained  beyond 
its  clear  and  natural  application.     This  is  so  obvious  as 
not  to  require  illustration. 

(5)  Concrete  Metaphors, — The  metaphor  is  most 
useful  when  it  embodies  the  abstract,  intangible,  or 
intellectual  in  the  similitude  of  the  concrete,  visible, 
and  material.     The  whole  vocabulary  of  spiritual  and 


LAWS   OF   FOKM.  217 

moral  discourse  is  derived  from  roots  primarily  signifi- 
cant of  physical  phenomena.  As  an  example  of  the 
exhaustless  fund  of  illustration  to  be  found  in  the  ru- 
iations  of  material  things,  observe  how  two  widely  dif- 
feient  notions  have  been  expressed  under  the  similitude 
of  refraction.  Burke  furnishes  the  first  case  : 

"These  metaphysic  rights  entering  into  common 
life,  like  rays  of  light  which  pierce  into  a  dense  medi- 
um, are  by  the  laws  of  nature  refracted  from  their 
straight  line.  Indeed,  in  the  gross  and  complicated 
mass  of  human  passions  and  concerns,  the  primitive 
rights  of  man  undergo  such  a  variety  of  refractions 
and  reflections,  that  it  becomes  absurd  to  talk  of  them 
as  if  they  continued  in  the  simplicity  of  their  original 
direction." 

Here  is  another  use  of  the  laws  of  refraction  by 
Herbert  Spencer  : 

"  The  white  light  of  truth,  in  traversing  the  many- 
sided  soul  of  the  poet,  is  refracted  into  iris-hued  poetry." 

5.  The  Value  of  Metaphor. 

The  skillful  use  of  metaphor  is  the  secret  charm  of 
many  a  famous  pen.  It  not  only  lends  grace  and  at- 
tractiveness to  style  through  images  of  beauty,  but  it 
also  economizes  interpreting  power.  If  metaphors 
were  merely  ornaments,  as  many  rhetorical  writers 
seem  to  regard  them,  they  would  have  no  more  place  in 
a  composition  than  gold  jewels  would  have  in  the  nose 
of  a  philosopher.  They  might  be  admired  by  the  un- 
tutored barbarian  ;  but  to  writers  of  sense  and  refine 
ment  they  would  be  tokens  of  an  unnatural  taste,  Bu» 
metaphors  offer  the  richest  mine  in  which  genius  ma) 
seek  for  unappropriated  treasure.  Its  treasures  arc 


218  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

absolutely  inexhaustible.  The  resemblances  of  ratioa- 
iiave  no  limits  which  finite  faculties  can  ever  reach. 
They  lie  all  about  us,  in  every  department  of  creation, 
from  the  flower  to  the  star.  The  dull  soul  does  not 
perceive  them  until  genius  spreads  them  before  us  in 
their  beauty  and  freshness.  When  America's  Milton 
and  Shakespeare  come,  they  will  not  go  with  the  penny- 
a-liners  to  Homer  and  Virgil  for  their  imagery,  but  to 
the  hidden  quarries  of  nature,  and  from  their  intermin- 
able depths  they  will  bring  materials  for  castles  of 
diction  as  grand  as  the  old-time  structures  from  which 
others  steal  the  moss-grown  stones. 

III.     PERSONIFICA  TION. 

-.,  the  Nature  and  Origin  of  Personification. 

Personification  consists  in  attributing  personality^ 
01  some  of  the  attributes  of  personality,  to  an  inanimate 
object,  because  of  a  fancied  resemblance  to  a  living  be- 
ing. The  philosophy  of  this  figure  leads  us  far  into  the 
mysteries  of  mythology,  and  throws  a  flood  of  light 
upon  the  genesis  of  myths.  To  the  inhabitants  of  the 
infant  world,  every  thing  was  animated  with  an  indi- 
vidual life.  "  We  cannot  realize  that  sentiment  with 
which  the  eye  of  antiquity  dwelt  on  these  sights  of  na- 
ture. To  us  all  is  law,  order,  necessity.  We  calculate 
the  refractory  power  of  the  atmosphere,  we  measure 
the  possible  length  of  the  dawn  in  every  climate,  and 
the  rising  of  the  sun  is  to  us  no  greater  surprise  than 
the  birth  of  a  child.  But  if  we  could  believe  again, 
that  there  was  in  the  sun  a  being  like  our  own,  that  in 
the  dawn  there  was  a  soul  open  to  human  sympathy, — 
if  we  could  bring  ourselves  to  look  for  a  moment  upon 


LAWS  OJ?  FOKM.  219 

these  powers  as  personal,  free,  and  adorable,  how  dif- 
ferent would  be  oar  i'eelings  at  the  blush  of  day.7"  * 
But  prior  to  reflection  all  motion  is  the  product  of  will, 
and  will  implies  personality.  Consciousness  teaches  us 
that  our  movements  emanate  from  a  volition,  radiate 
from  a  conscious  subject,  and,  before  the  rise  of  natural 
philosophy,  it  would  be  easy  for  man  to  people  the 
earth,  the  sea,  and  the  sky  with  personalities  like  his 
own.  Thus,  say  a  certain  school  of  comparative  my- 
thologists,  every  word  was  a  personifying  metaphor, 
and  in  time,  its  significance  fading  from  memory,  it 
was  supposed  to  designate  a  real  being — a  hero  or  a 
god. 

"In  the  ancient  poetical  and  proverbial  language 
of  Elis,"  says  Miiller,  "  people  said,  '  Selene  [moon] 
loves  and  watches  Endymion  [setting  sun'],  instead  of 
6  the  sun  is  setting  and  the  moon  is  rising  ;'  '  Selene 
kisses  Endymion  into  sleep,'  instead  of,  c  it  is  night.' 
These  expressions  remained  long  after  their  meaning 
had  ceased  to  be  understood ;  and  as  the  human  mind 
js  generally  as  anxious  for  a  reason  as  ready  to  invent 
one,  a  story  arose  by  common  consent,  and  without  any 
personal  effort,  that  Endymion  must  have  been  a  young 
lad  loved  by  a  young  lady  Selene."  f 

2.  Personification  Natural  to  Man. 

This  poetic  instinct  of  the  earliest  men  has  not 
wholly  died  out  in  the  human  breast.  A  spark  still 
survives,  and  as  the  feelings  are  aroused, 

"  And  as  imagination  bodies  forth 
The  form  of  things  unknown," 

*  Max  Miiller's  Chips  from  a  German  Workshop,  IL 
f  Chips,  ii 


220  THE  SCIENCE  OF  KHETOKIC. 

it  touches  abstractions  with  its  Promethean  fire,  and 
breathes  into  their  nostrils  the  breath  of  life.  Thus 
Wordsworth  gives  personality  to  age  : 

"  Age!  twine  thy  brows  with  fresh  spring  flowers, 
And  call  a  frain  of  laughing  Hours, 
And  bid  them  dance,  and  bid  them  sing ; 
And  thou,  too,  mingle  in  the  ring  1 " 

3.  Personification  in  Oratory. 

But  not  in  poetry  alone  is  personification  a  natural 
form  of  expression.  It  vivifies  the  grandest  oratory. 
Curran,  speaking  of  Irish  independence,  says,  "  I  sai 
by  her  cradle,  and  I  have  followed  her  hearse.'7  Fired 
with  the  noble  theme  of  freedom,  he  conceives  of  uni- 
versal emancipation  as  a  living  genius,  presiding  over 
British  soil,  and  clothed  with  all  the  majesty  of 
beneficent  power : 

"I  speak  in  the  spirit  of  British  law,  which  makes 
liberty  commensurate  with  and  inseparable  from  the 
British  soil,  which  proclaims  even  to  the  stranger  and 
the  sojourner,  the  me'nent  he  sets  his  foot  on  British 
earth,  that  the  soil  on  which  he  treads  is  holy,  and  con- 
secrated by  the  genius  of  Universal  Emancipation.  No 
matter  in  what  language  his  doom  may  have  been  pro- 
nounced; no  matter  what  complexion  incompatible 
with  freedom  an  Indian  or  an  African  sun  may  have 
burned  upon  him  ;  no  matter  in  what  disastrous  battle 
his  liberties  may  have  been  cloven  down ;  no  matter 
with  what  solemnities  he  may  have  been  devoted  on  the 
altar  of  slavery, — the  moment  he  touches  the  sacred  toil 
of  Britain,  the  altar  and  the  god  sink  together  in  the 
dust,  his  soul  walks  abroad  in  her  own  majesty,  his 
body  swells  beyond  the  chains  that  burst  from  around 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  221 

him,  and  he  stands  redeemed,  regenerated,  aaid  dis- 
enthralled by  the  irresistible  genius  of  Universal 
Emancipation." 

A  single  sentence  like  this  will  impress  the  sub- 
limity of  a  sentiment  more  forcibly  than  a  folio  ol 
abstract  propositions  logically  deduced  from  an  axiom. 

4.  Forms  of  Personification. 

Two  forms  of  personification  may  be  distinguished  : 
(1)  that  which  ascribes  personality  to  inanimate  ob- 
jects ;  and  (2)  that  which  attributes  to  an  inanimate 
object  some  quality  of  a  living  being. 

(1)  Personality  Ascribed, — The  first  form  is  likely 
to  seem  forced  except  in  the  highest  flights  of  poetry 
and  oratory.     Milton  uses  it  with  power  in  describing 
he  grief  of  nature  over  the  sin  of  Eve  : 

"  Earth  felt  the  wound  ;  and  Nature  from  her  seat 
Sighing,  through  all  her  works  gave  signs  of  woe, 
That  all  was  lost." 

Wordsworth  thus  invests  religion  with  the  terrors 
of  an  unnatural  maternity  : 

"  Sacred  Religion,  mother  of  form  and  fear, 
Dread  arbitress  of  mutable  respect 
New  rites  ordaining  when  the  old  are  wrecked, 
Or  cease  to  please  the  fickle  worshiper." 

Shelley  breathes  a  soul  into  the  cloud  which  makes 
it  seem  almost  a  sister  : 

I  bring  fresh  showers  for  the  thirsting  flowers 
From  the  seas  and  the  streams  ; 
I  bear  light  shade  for  the  leaves  when  laid 
In  their  noonday  dVeaias 


222  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

From  my  wings  are  shaken  the  dews  that  waken 

The  sweet  buds  every  one, 

When  rocked  to  rest  on  their  mother's  breast, 

As  she  dances  about  the  sun. 

I  wield  the  flail  of  the  lashing  hail 

And  whiten  the  green  plains  under ; 

And  then  again  I  dissolve  it  in  rain, 

And  laugh  as  I  pass  in  thunder." 

(2)   dualities  of  Life  Attributed.— The  second 

form  of  personification  is  more  common,  and  pervades 
all  animated  speech  and  writing.  While  it  does  not 
affirm  personality,  it  implies  the  possession  of  life  by 
inanimate  objects.  It  appears  in  such  expressions  as, 
"the  thirsty  soil/'  "  ravenous  famine,"  "  angry  tern 
pest,"  and  the  like.  What  unutterable  loneliness  in 
these  lines  by  Leigh  Hunt : 

"  A  ghastly  castle  that  eternally 
Holds  its  blind  visage  out  to  the  lone  sea." 


IV.    ALLEGORY. 
1.  The  Nature  of  Allegory. 

Allegory  is  commonly  defined  as  "a  continued 
metaphor,"  or  a  metaphor  developed  so  as  to  include  a 
number  of  details.  This  definition  does  not  express 
the  whole  truth,  since  it  takes  a  species  for  a  genus. 
An  allegory  may  consist  of  a  single  metaphor  expanded, 
or  of  several  cognate  metaphors.  In  the  following 
beautiful  passage  by  Longfellow,  the  original  metaphor, 
representing  the  state  under  the  figure  of  a  ship,  is 
steadily  kept  in  view  to  the  end,  without  a  digression 
to  mar  its  consistent  development  : 


LAWS   OF   EOKM.  223 

M  Thou  too,  sail  on,  0  ship  of  state ! 
Sail  on,  O  Union,  strong  and  great  I 
Humanity,  with  all  its  fears, 
With  all  its  hopes  of  future  years, 
Is  hanging  breathless  on  thy  fate ! 
We  know  what  master  laid  thy  keel, 
What  workmen  wrought  thy  ribs  of  steel , 
Who  made  each  mast,  and  sail,  and  rope, 
What  anvils  rang,  what  hammers  beat ; 
In  what  a  forge  and  what  a  heat 
Were  shaped  the  anchors  of  thy  hope! 
Fear  not  each  sudden  sound  and  shock — 
'Tis  of  the  wave  and  not  the  rock  ; 
Tis  but  the  flapping  of  the  sail, 
And  not  a  rent  made  by  the  gale  1 
In  spite  of  rock  and  tempest  roar, 
In  spite  of  false  lights  on  the  shore 
Sail  on,  nor  fear  to  breast  the  sea  ! 
Our  hearts,  our  hopes,  are  all  with  thee  , 
Our  hearts,  our  hopes,  our  prayers,  our  tears, 
Our  faith  triumphant  o'er  our  fears, 
Are  all  with  thee,  are  all  with  thee." 

Many  of  the  finest  allegories  do  not  consist  in  the 
deTelopment  of  a  single  metaphor,  but  in  the  combina- 
tion of  several  cognate  metaphors.  In  Bunyan's 
"Pilgrim's  Progress/' the  fundamental  metaphor  is 
the  representation  of  a  Christian  by  a  pilgrim,  but  in 
the  course  of  its  development  several  cognate  meta- 
phors are  introduced,  and  likewise  developed.  The 
same  is  true  in  Spenser's  "Faery  Queen,"  in  which 
personified  vices  and  virtues  are  made  to  perform 
their  part  in  a  series  of  allegoric  adventures. 

2.  Allegory  Distinguished  from  Allied 
Forms. 

Great  confusion  has  resulted  from  a  failure  to  dis- 


224  THE   SCIEXCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

tinguisL  tlip  allegory  from  other  forms  of  expression 
somewhat  similar,  such  as  the  myth,  the  fable,  and  the 
parable.  By  some  writers  they  are  treated  as  almost 
synonymous,  by  others  they  are  variously  distin- 
guished. Properly  considered,  they  are  widely  differ- 
ent. The  myth  involves  the  blending  of  the  innei 
meaning  and  the  outward  symbol,  presenting  itself  not 
as  the  vehicle  of  truth,  but  as  truth.  Thus  the  myth 
of  the  labors  of  Hercules  does  not  pretend  to  be  the 
shadowing  forth  of  some  deeper  meaning,  such  as  the 
passage  of  the  sun  through  the  twelve  signs  of  the 
zodiac,  but  literal  fact.  The  myth  is,  therefore,  an 
unconscious  allegory.*  The  allegory  proper,  the  fable, 
and  the  parable,  agree  in  not  claiming  to  be  tlie  truth, 
but  merely  vehicles  of  the  truth.  The  fable  and  the 
parable  are  distinguished  chiefly  by  this  difference  :  the 
fable  recounts  what  is  impossible  if  literally  interpreted; 
the  parable  is  generally  literally  possible.  This  dis- 
tinction does  not  hold  with  those  who  use  the  words 
without  discrimination. 

3.  Laws  of  Allegory. 

As  the  allegory  is  composed  of  metaphors,  the 
principles-  laid  down  as  governing  them  separately, 
apply  when  they  are  used  in  combination.  Two  prin- 
ciples need  to  be  more  carefully  observed. 

(1)  Development  of  the  Eadical  Metaphor.— The 
radical  metaphor  mast  be  strictly  developed,  without 
any  blending  of  plain  and  figurative  expressions,  01 

*  For  the  myth   of  Hercules,  see   Anthem's    Classical  Dic- 
tionary, art.  Hercules.     For  the  explanation  of  the  unconscious 
growth  of  myths,  see  Max  Miiller's  Chips,  Vol.  II.,  and  Person 
fication  in  this  book. 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  225 

mixing  o±  metaphors.  The  substitution  of  "girl"  for 
"  rose  "  in  the  following,  illustrates  the  confusion  tb/it 
would  result  from  neglecting  this  law  : 

"  You  took  her  up  a  tender  little  flower, 
Just  sprouted  on  a  bank,  which  the  next  frost 
Had  nipped  ;  and,  with  a  careful  loving  hand 
Transplanted  her  into  your  own  fair  garden, 
Where  the  sun  always  shines  ;  there  long  she  flourished, 
Grew  sweet  to  sense  and  lovely  to  the  eye, 
Till,  at  the  last,  a  cruel  spoiler  came, 
Cropt  this  fair  rose,  and  rifled  all  its  sweetness, 
Then  cast  it  like  a  loathsome  weed  away." 

(2)  The  Analogy  Evident. — It  is  not  less  import- 
ant that  the  analogy  be  evident.  Since  the  resemblance 
is  one  of  ratios,  if  the  radical  metaphor  is  obscure,  its 
development  will  render  it  more  so,  and  interpreting 
power  will  not  be  economized.  The  allegory  and  the 
enigma  differ  only  in  degree ;  the  difference  being, 
that  in  an  enigma  the  meaning  of  the  metaphorical 
terms  is  so  obscure  as  to  be  unintelligible.  An  alle- 
gorical writer  may  easily  become  a  Sphinx. 

SECTION  II. 
FIGURES  FOUNDED  ON  CONTIGUITY. 

1.  The  Theory  Explained. 

In  order  to  understand  how  figures  of  speech  are 
based  on  contiguity  in  time  or  space,  a  prefatory  ex 
planation  of  this  form  of  association  is  necessary.  "  la 
passing  along  a  road  which  we  have  formerly  traveled 
in  company  with  a  friend,  the  particulars  of  the  con- 
versation in  which  we  were  then  engaged  are  fre- 
quently suggested  to  us  by  the  objects  we  meet  with. 
10* 


226  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

In  such  a  scone  we  recollect  that  a  partieiJar  subjecl 
was  started  ;  and  in  passing  the  different  houses,  and 
.plantations,  and  rivers,  the  arguments  we  were  ills- 
cussing  when  we  last  saw  them,  recur  spontaneous!)  tc 
the  memory.  The  connection  which  is  formed  in  tlu 
mind  between  the  different  words  of  a  discourse  wo 
have  committed  to  memory,  the  connection  between 
the  different  notes  of  a  piece  of  music  in  the  mind  of 
the  musician,  are  all  obvious  instances  of  the  same  law 
of  our  nature."*  A  whole  cannot  be  conceived  without 
parts,  nor  parts  without  a  whole  ;  every  thing  being 
either  a  cause  or  an  effect,  or  both,  nothing  can  be 
thought  of  without  implying  an  antecedent  or  a  conse- 
quent. Thus  "  local  contiguity  binds  up  objects  other 
wise  unconnected  into  a  single  object  of  perceptive 
thought."  f  Of  the  objects  so  united  in  our  thoughts, 
some  are  more  simple  and  concrete  than  others,  hence 
interpreting  power  is  economized  by  selecting  the 
former  for  figurative  expression. 

2.  Forms  of  Contiguity. 

Contiguity  assumes  three  forms  :  (1)  a  whole  is 
related  to  its  parts ;  (2)  an  object  is  related  to  its  ac- 
companiments ;  and  (3)  emotions  are  co- existent  in  the 
mind.  Each  of  these  forms  of  contiguity  is  the  basis 
of  one  or  more  figures  of  speech.  The  relation  of  a 
whole  to  its  parts  gives  rise  to  Synecdoche ;  the  rela- 
tion of  an  object  to  its  accompaniments,  to  Metonymy 
the  co-existence  of  emotions,  to  Exclamation,  Hyper- 
bole,  Apostrophe,  and  Vision. 

*  Dugald  Stewart,  Works,  II. 

f  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Metaphysics. 


LAWS   OF   FOKM.  22? 

I.     SYNECDOCHE. 
1.  Forms  of  Synecdoche. 

This  figure  has  three  forms  :  (1)  a  part  is  put  foi 
the  whole  of  an  object ;  (2)  the  whole  is  put  for  a  part  ; 
and  (3)  the  material  is  put  for  the  thing  itself. 

(1)  A  Part  for  the  Whole. — There  is  a  clear  econ- 
omy of  interpreting  power  in  the  first  form  of  synec- 
doche.    Whenever  any  object  is  mentioned,  some  pur- 
pose is  aimed  at.    The  nature  of  this  purpose  determines 
the  view  taken  of  the  object.     Some  one  part  must  be 
more  suggestive  of  this  view  than  any  other.     Thus 
man  may  be  variously  designated  by  one  of  his  parts, 
according  to  the  view  taken  of  him.     Considered  as  a 
messenger  bearing  good   news,  we  may  say  of  him, 
"  How  beautiful  are  the  feet  of  them  that  preach  the 
gospel  of  peace,  and  bring  glad  tidings  of  good  things  ;" 
viewed  as  demanding  bodily  sustenance,  ''This  officer 
has  a  thousand  mouths  to  feed  ; "  contemplated  merely 
as  a    worker,   "  All   hands   were    busily    occupied;" 
regarded  simply  as  a  human  being,  "  Eight  souls  were 
saved."     Thus  we  may  continue  to  abstract  this  or  that 
part,  according  to  our  purpose. 

In  all  these  cases  there  is  an  obvious  force  resulting 
from  the  designation  of  a  part.  That  which  is  perti- 
aent  is  brought  directly  to  the  attention ;  that  which  is 
irrelevant  is  kept  out  of  view  ;  the  simple  takes  the 
place  of  the  complex,  the  specific  of  the  abstract. 
Hence  the  obvious  principle,  that  the  part  most  sug« 
gestive  of  the  specific  view  should  be  selected. 

(2)  The  Whole  for   a  Part.— Sometimes,   on   the 
contrary,  there  is  an  economy  of  interpreting  power  in 


228  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

using  the  whole  for  a  part.  There  is  here  danger  of 
violating  the  principle,  that  the  specific  is  more  expres- 
sive than  the  general.  But  there  are  cases  where  a 
general  word  is  very  important.  The  breadth  of  in- 
clusion renders  an  expression  more  forcible  when  the 
intention  is  to  heighten  the  effect  by  implying  vast  ex- 
tent or  magnitude.  To  speak  of  the  "  Eoman  nation" 
does  not  impress  the  mind  with  the  grandeur  and  ex- 
tent of  the  empire  which  embraced  nearly  every  civil- 
ized land,  so  well  as  to  say,  "  the  Roman  world."  So 
"  the  country  is  in  arms,"  "  the  whole  land  was  aglow 
with  excitement,"  "the  nation  awoke  with  indigna- 
tion,"— are  much  more  expressive  of  a  universal  move- 
ment than  to  speak  of  "  men,"  "  patriots,"  etc. 

(3)  The  Material  for  the  Object.— The  material  of 
an  instrument  may  be  more  expressive  of  the  idea  than 
the  outlines  associated  with  its  proper  name,  and  hence 
the  third  form  of  synecdoche  often  has  an  economic 
value.  Thus  "gold"  is  often  more  suggestive  than 
"money."  In  the  following  stanza  "steel"  is  better 
than  "  stvord,"  as  suggestive  of  the  fineness  of  edge 
which  a  steel  blade  is  capable  of  taking  : 

•'  The  wounds  that  are  dealt  by  that  murderous  steel 
Will  never  yield  case  for  the  surgeons  to  heal." 

II.     METONYMY. 
1.  Forms  of  Metonymy. 

Metonymy  is  the  designation  of  an  object  by  one  ol 
its  accompaniments.  Rhetoricians  have  divided  and 
subdivided  metonymies  until  the  most  capacious  mem- 
ory would  be  taxed  to  retain  them.  They  are  as  num- 
erous as  the  various  forms  of  accompaniment.  A  tluvt'- 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  229 

fold  classification  will  furnish  Illustrative  instances  ol 
this  figure.  Metonymies  may  be  divided  into  the  fol 
lowing  classes  :  (1)  the  effect  is  put  for  the  cause  or  the 
cause  for  the  effect ;  (2)  the  sign  is  put  for  the  thing 
signified ;  and  (3)  the  container  is  put  for  the  tiling 
contained. 

(1)  Cause  and  Effect. — The  connection  of  an  effect 
with  a  cause  is  an  intuition  of  the  human  mind.     The 
effect  may  be'better  or  less  known  than  the  cause,  ac- 
cording to  circumstances.     Sometimes  a  complex  and 
obscure  cause  produces  a  simple  and  obvious  effect 
and,  on  the  other  hand,   a  simple  and  obvious  cause 
may  produce  a  complex  and  obscure  effect.     A  proper 
metonymy  uses  the  better  known  for  the  less  known, 
either  the  cause  for  the  effect,  or   the  effect  for  the 
cause.     In  the  words  of  Junius,  "  can  gray  hairs  make 
folly  venerable?"  the  effect,  "gray  hairs,"  is  pu'-  for 
the  cause,  old  age,  because  the  color  of  the  hair  is  a 
visible  and  inseparable  characteristic  of  old  age,  while 
old  age  is  a  mere  abstraction.     On  the  other  hand,  the 
cause  may  be  more  suggestive  than  the  effect..    Thus, 
"  They  have  Moses  and  the  prophets^*  is  more  expres- 
sive than  "They  have  the  law  and  ihe  prophecies,"  for 
in  this  instance  the  persons  are  less  abstract  than  the 
terms  "law"  and  "prophecies." 

(2)  The  Sign  and  the  Thing  Signified-— By  as- 

sociation  certain  signs  and  symbols  become  significant 
of  general  notions.  Thus  "crown,"  "scepter,"  and 
"  purple,"  are  indicative  of  sovereignty,  because  long 
associated  with  it  as  its  external  concomitants  and  iep« 
resentative  symbols.  Proverbs  naturally  couch  them- 
selves in  this  form  of  metonymy.  "The  pen  [literary 
power]  is  mightier  than  the  sword  [military  power]." 


230  THE  SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

(3)  Container  and  Thing  Contained.— An  economy 

of  mental  processes,  but  more  especially  of  time  and 
new  words,  is  often  secured  by  putting  the  container 
for  the  contained.  Thus  we  speak  of  the  "table/' 
meaning  the  eatables  on  it;  of  the  "house/'  meaning 
its  occupants ;  of  the  "camp,"  meaning  its  tents  and 
equipage. 

2.  The  Law  of  Selection. 

The  principle  of  economy  in  all  metonymies  re 
quires  the  selection  of  that  which  best  suits  the  pur- 
pose of  the  idea.  The  mind  has  a  tendency  to  unity 
of  conception,  and  hence  to  the  rejection  of  all  dis- 
tracting details.  Metonymy  satisfies  this  tendency  of 
the  mind  by  removing  particulars  that  would  compli- 
cate thought,  and  by  furnishing  what  is  most  necessary 
to  the  conception  to  be  formed.  Like  most  other 
figures  of  speech,  it  is  not  well  adapted  to  strictly 
scientific  statements. 

III.— CO-EXISTENT  EMOTIONS. 

1.  Meaning  of  Co-existent  Emotions. 

When  two  emotions,  or  an  emotion  and  a  percep 
tion  co-exist,  they  are  associated  by  contiguity  of  time 
i.  e.,  as  has  been  explained,  by  forming  parts  of  the 
same  mental  state.  Joy,  anger,  surprise,  and  other 
similar  emotions,  naturally  express  themselves  in  ev- 
chimiitory  and  exaggerated  forms.  These  forms  be- 
come associated  with  the  emotions  to  which  they  corre- 
spond. Hence,  when  the  forms  are  used,  they  recall 
the  emotions  with  which  they  are  associated  in  tho 
mind.  Thus  they  become  exponents  of  the  communi- 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  23] 

cator's  feelings,,  tind   assist  the  interpreter  in  under 
standing  with  what  intention  the  words  are  used. 

2.  Figures  Founded  on  Co-existent 
Emotions. 

Co-existent  emotions  give  rise  to  four  kinds  ol 
figurative  expression  :  (1)  Exclamation,  when  the  idea 
is  associated  with  strong  emotion  ;  (2)  Hyperbole,  when 
exaggerated  statement  is  employed  ;  (3)  Apostrophe, 
when  the  idea  is  so  vividly  conceived  as  to  lead  to 
direct  address  ;  and  (4)  Vision,  when  the  past  or  future 
is  conceived  of  as  present. 

(1)  Exclamation, — Not  every  exclamation  is  a  fig- 
ure of  speech.  The  expressions  Oh  !  Alas  !  and  the 
like  are  plain  language,  because  they  fail  to' fulfill  the 
condition  of  figures,  that  one  thing  is  expressed  in  the 
form  of  another.  Interjections  are  as  natural  ex- 
pressions of  feeling  as  verbs  and  nouns  are  respectively 
of  actions  and  objects.  TUe  primary  and  natural 
expression  of  strong  emotion  is  not  ^proposition,  but 
an  interjection.  The  proposition, — subject,  copula  and 
predicate, — is  the  intellective  form  of  utterance  ;  the 
exclamation  is  the  emotive.*  When  a  proposition  is 
thrown  into  the  interjectional  form,  i.  e.,  is  spoken  or 
written  in  tho  manner  of  an  interjection,  the  emotive 
form  of  that  particle  is  made  the  medium  of  expressing 
an  idea  primarily  intellective  ;  then  it  becomes  figura- 
tive. Hamlet,  speaking  in  the  prepositional  form 
would  have  said  :  "Man  is  a  wonderful  work  ;  noble 
in  reason,  infinite  in  faculties,  express  and  admirable 

*  For  a  valuable  discussion  of  the  Interjection,  see  Earle's 
Philology  of  the  English  Tongue,  Chap.  iii. 


232  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

in  form  and  moving,  in  action  like  an  angel,  in  appre- 
hension like  a  god,  the  beauty  of  the  world,  the  para 
gmi  of  animals."  But  filled  with  emotion  by  tlies* 
high  thoughts,  Shakespeare  makes  him  speak  in  tin 
ihterjectional  form  :  "What  a  piece  of  work  is  man  ! 
how  noble  in  reason  !  how  infinite  in  faculties  !  in  form 
and  moving,  how  express  and  admirable  !  in  action  how 
like  an  angel  !  in  apprehension,  how  like  a  god  !  the 
beauty  of  the  world  !  the  paragon  of  animals  !" 

(2)  Hypsrbole. — Emotion  once  excited,  though 
brief,  is  cumulative.  As  the  eye  runs  along  the  ascend- 
ing lines  of  some  cathedral  spire  until  it  leaps  into  free 
space,  so  emotion  rising  with  indescribable  swiftness, 
is  soon  far  above  its  primary  causes.  Hence  exaggera- 
tion is  natural  to  imaginative  and  emotional  people,  who 
conceive  more  vividly  than  facts  allow,  and  speak  even 
more  vividly  than  they  conceive.  The  philosophy  of 
the  figure  is,  that  facts  are  measured  by  the  strength 
of  the  co-existent  emotion,  and  hence,  in  expression, 
are  magnified  to  correspond  witli  the  emotion.  The 
hyperbole  is,  therefore,  a  form  of  expression  in  which 
one  thing  is  said  under  the  form  of  another  more  im- 
pressive than  itself.  The  intelligent  hearer  is  aware 
of  this,  and  makes  a  due  allowance.  Saul  and  Jona- 
than are  represented  as  "  swifter  than  eagles  and 
stronger  than  lions."  Every  intelligent  reader  knows 
that  this  is  said  in  the  exaggerated  form  suggested  by 
strong  emotion,  and  yet  he  feels,  at  the  same  time,  that 
by  this  very  exaggeration  that  feeling  of  wonder  and 
admiration  which  prompted  the  form  of  expression  is 
communicated  to  himself.  In  this  lies  the  value  of  the 
figure  in  economizing  interpreting  power. 

The  hyperbole  may  be  made  one  of  the  most  forci* 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  233 

ble  helps  to  expression.     Milton's  fondness  for  it  is 
everywhere  evident.     Thus  in  "Comus"  : 

"  I  was  all  ear 

And  took  in  strains  that  might  create  a  soul 
Under  the  ribs  of  Death" 

111  "II  Penseroso"  : 

"  Such  notes  as  warbled  to  the  string 
Drew  iron  tears  doion  Pluto's  cheek." 

This  happy  instance  in  "  Paradise  Lost"  is  but  one 
of  hundreds  : 

"  He  called 

His  legions,  angel  forms,  who  lay  entranced 
Thick  as  autumnal  leaves  that  strew  the  brooks 
In  Vallornbrosa." 

Much  of  the  brilliancy  of  humorous  writing  is  de 
rived  from,  hyperbole.     Thus,  in  "  Henry  IV."  Shake 
speare  makes  Falstaff  say  :  "  There's  but  a  shirt  and  & 
half  in  all  my  company ;  and  the  half  shirt  is  two  nap- 
kins, tacked  together,  and  thrown  over  the  shoulders 
like  a  herald's  coat  without  sleeves." 

Hood  writes  of  a  night  so  terrible  that  a  Christian 
farmer  would  not  leave  his  scarecrow  out  of  shelter ; 
and  Jerrold,  of  a  man  so  unwisely  benevolent  that  he 
held  his  umbrella  over  a  duck  in  a  shower  of  rain. 

No  high  purpose  of  style  is  subserved  when  a  lady 
speaks  of  a  ' '  sublime  lemonade,"  a  "  heart-rending  cup 
of  tea,"  or  "magnificent  snup."  The  whole  tendency 
of  such  exaggeration  is,  to  weaken  the  force  of  every 
utterance  of  those  who  thus  abuse  speech,  and  finally 
to  emasculate  language. 

(3)  Apostrophe. — In  the  higher  flights  of  imagi mo- 
tion, the  absent  arc  conceived  of  as  present,  the  inani 


234  THE  SCIEKCE  OF  BHETOBIC. 

mate  as  living,  the  abstract  as  personal,  and  are  di 
rectly  addressed.  This  figure  is  clearly  allied  to  per 
Bonification,  with  which  it  is  often  combined.  Tho 
national  hymn  "America"  is  in  the  apos trophic  form, 
and  how  much  it  owes  to  this  may  be  seen  by  con- 
structing a  parody,  altering 

"My  country,  'tis  of  thee," 

to  the  third  person.     The  use  of  this  figure  presupposes 
elevated  emotion,  and  would  be  absurd  without  it. 

(4)  Vision. — Vision  has  sometimes  been  confounded 
with  apostrophe,  but  the  two  are  entirely  distinct. 
While  apostrophe  consists  in  a  direct  address,  vision 
treats  the  past  and  the  future  as  if  they  were  the  pres- 
ent. It  does  not  invoke,  but  describes.  A  striking 
illustration  is  found  in  Edward  Everett's  description 
of  the  perils  of  the  Mayflower  : 

"  Methinks  I  see  it  now — that  one  solitary,  adventurous  ves- 
sel, the  Mayflower  of  a  forlorn  hope,  freighted  with  the  prospects 
of  a  future  state,  and  bound  across  the  unknown  sea.  I  behold 
it  pursuing  with  a  thousand  misgivings  the  uncertain,  the  tedi- 
ous voyage.  I  see  them  now,  scantily  supplied  with  provisions  ; 
crowded  almost  to  suffocation  in  their  ill-stored  prison  ;  delayed 
by  calms,  pursuing  a  circuitous  route.  The  awful  voice  of  the 
storm  howls  through  the  rigging;  the  laboring  masts  seem 
straining  from  their  base;  *ne  dismal  sound  of  the  pump  is 
heard  ;  the  ship  leaps,  as  it  were  madly  from  billow  to  billow; 
the  ocean  breaks  and  settles  with  ingulfing  floods  over  the 
floating  deck,  and  beats  with  deadening,  shivering  weight 
against  the  staggering  vessel." 

3.  Explanation  of  these  Figures. 

The  figures  founded  on  co-existent  emotions  have 
been  touched  hastily,  in  ordei  that  their  rationale 
might  be  explained  in  one  place. 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  235 

Sir  William  Hamilton  has  established  the  law, 
enunciated  by  "Kant,  that  "v  Knowledge  and  feeling,, 
though  always  co-existent,  are  always  in  the  inverse, 
ratio  of  each  oilier.'1  This  law  explains  the  figures 
founded  on  co-existent  emotions,,  and  furnishes  a 
foundation  on  which  to  base  laws  for  their  use.  All 
these  figures  are  products  of  strong  emotion.  The 
strength  of  the  emotions  obliterates  distinctions  of  fact 
which  are  obvious  to  minds  not  thus  aroused.  In  hy- 
perbole, wide  differences  are  overlooked  ;  in  apostrophe, 
the  chasm  between  life  and  death,  personality  and  in- 
sensibility, is  crossed  with  a  leap;  in  vision,  centuries 
are  swept  out  of  view,  and  the  past  seems  to  coincide 
with  the  present.  Emotion  of  any  kind  is  eclectic,  ex- 
cluding from  view  all  that  is  not  in  harmony  with  it- 
self, and  intensifying  and  magnifying  what  is  accordant 
with  itself.  "  When  we  are  under  a  strong  emotion, 
all  things  discordant  with  it,"  says  Bain,  "  are  kept  out 
of  sight.  A  strong  volitional  urgency  will  subdue  an 
opposing  consideration  actually  before  the  mind ;  but 
intense  feeling  so  lords  it  over  the  intellectual  trains 
that  the  opposing  considerations  are  not  even  allowed 
to  be  present.  One  would  think  it  were  enough  that 
the  remote  considerations  should  give  way  to  the  near 
and  pressing  ones,  so  that  the  ( video  meliora'  might 
still  remain  with  the  ' dcteriora  sequor'  ;  but,  in  truth, 
the  flood  of  emotion  sometimes  sweeps  away  for  the 
moment  every  vestige  of  the  opposing  absent,  as  if 
they  had  at  no  time  been  a  present  reality.  Our  feelings 
not  merely  piay  the  part  of  rebels  or  innovators  against 
the  canons  of  the  past,  they  are  like  destroying  Vandals, 
who  efface  and  consume  the  records  of  what  has  been."  * 

*  The  Emotions  and  the  Will 


236  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

Originally  produced  by  tlie  contemplation  of  reali« 
ties,  emotion  stimulates  the  fancy,  which  "given  tc  airy 
nothing  a  local  habitation  and  a  name  ;"  then,  catch- 
ing inspiration  from  its  own  creations,  the  dominant 
emotion  wholly  influences  the  trains  of  thought,  until 
distinctions  of  space,  time,  cause  and  effect,  and  value, 
are  obliterated  or  transferred.  An  angry  man  sees  nc 
beauty  in  his  foe,  a  lover  no  blemish  in  his  mistress,  an 
enthusiast  no  fallacy  in  his  theory.  Thus  also  the  poet 
and  the  orator,  when  the  "eye  is  with  fine  frenzy  roll- 
ing," construe  the  universe  to  suit  their  mood.  Stars 
and  flowers  become  sisters,  the  trees  and  clouds  assume 
personality,  the  dead  are  recalled  from  the  world  of 
shades,  and  are  addressed  as  if  living.  To  the  fancy  of 
the  poet,  all  this  is  momentarily  real,  and  the  inade- 
quate expression  of  a  truth  beyond  all  powers  of  utter- 
ance to  express  ;  to  the  cool  critic,  who  catches  no  spark 
of  the  poetic  fire,  it  is  superlative  nonsense.  Hence 
the  realistic  verdict  of  Bentham,  in  which  he  pro- 
nounces poetry  to  be  "misrepresentation  in  verse." 
Hence  also  what  is  loudly  applauded  as  oratory  when 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  assembly  runs  at  full  tide,  seems 
bombastic  and  insipid  to  the  deliberate  reader. 

4.  Laws  of  these  Figures. 

Two  laws  for  the  use  of  these  strongly  emotive  fig- 
ures grow  out  of  their  relation  to  the  economy  of  inter- 
preting power  :  (1)  they  aid  the  expression  of  strong 
emotion,  since  exaggeration  is  naturally  associated  with 
it ;  and  (2)  they  are  effective  only  when  preceded  by 
such  trains  of  thought  and  feeling  as  will  justify 
exaggeration. 


LAWS  OF   FORM.  23? 

SECTION  III. 

FIGURES  FOUNDED   ON   CONTRAST. 
1.  The  Theory  of  Contrast. 

The  mind  is  affected  by  a  change  from  one  state  of 
consciousness  to  another.  The  greatness  and  sudden- 
ness of  the  change  determine  the  degree  in  which  the 
mind  is  affected.  Thus  we  are  shocked  by  a  sudden 
transition  from  darkness  to  a  bright  light,  or  from  hil- 
arious joy  to  profound  grief.  This  effect  upon  the 
mind  is  owing  to  the  principle  of  contrast.  It  is  a  law 
of  the  mind  that  qualities  contrasted  are  rendered  more 
striking:"  If,  for  example,  two  pictures,  one  beautiful, 
tEe~ollTer  ugly,  are  seen  at  the  same  time,  both  the 
loveliness  of  the  one  and  the  repulsiveness  of  the  other 
are  magnified  by  the  comparison.  Contrast  is  particu- 
larly adapted  to  the  exhibition  of  xminute  differences. 
If  we  hold  a  candle  between  us  and  the  noon-day  sun, 
the  former  will  appear  dark  when  compared  with  the 
effulgence  of  the  latter.  If  a  piece  of  black  cloth  be 
laid  upon  a  substance  truly  black,  the  black  cloth  will 
appear  relatively  gray.  So  when  two  thoughts  or  emo- 
tions are  brought  into  close  proximity,  and  especially 
when  they  are  set  in  opposition  by  a  balanced  senten- 
tial structure,  the  distinction  between  them  will  be 
greatly  magnified  by  the  contrast.  Xow,  as  the  jewel- 
ler displays  the  brilliancy  of  his  wares  by  exhibiting 
them  on  a  black  and  non-reflecting  back-ground,  so  the 
writer  may  add  attractiveness  to  his  conceptions,  and 
economize  the  interpreting  ^powers  of  his  reader,  by 
employing  the  principle  of  contrast. 


238  THE  SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

2.  Essentials  of  a  Perfect  Contrast. 

A  perfect  contrast  requires  opposition  or  contrariety. 
It  also  requires  that  the  objects  contrasted  belong  tc 
the  same  generic  class.  We  cannot  contrast  heat  and 
light,  virtue  and  pleasure,  because  they  belong  to  dif 
ferent  categories.  The  proper  opposite  of  virtue  is 
vice.  These  belong  to  the  same  category,  since  they 
are  both  states  of  moral  character.  Heat  and  cold 
are  in  contrast,  because  they  are  states  of  temperature. 
Hence  a  perfect  contrast  requires  that  the  objects  con- 
trasted be  of  the  same  generic  class,  but  the  most 
widely  different  of  that  class. 

3.  Figures  Founded  on  Contrast. 

Contrast  gives  rise  to  two  classes  of  figures  :  (1) 
those  in  which  there  is  an  expressed  contrast ;  and  (2) 
those  in  which  a  contrast  is  implied. 

I.     EXPRESSED    CONTRAST. 

The  figures  in  which  two  expressed  ideas  are  con 
trasted  are  Antithesis  and  Glim  ax. 

1.  Antithesis. 

(1)  Tho  Nature  of  Antithesis.— Antithesis  is  a 
form  of  expression  which  impresses  an  idea  upon  the 
mind  by  bringing  opposites  into  one  conception.     Thus, 
in  the  sentence,  "  Gold  cannot  make  a  man  happy  any 
more  than  rags  can  make  him  miserable  ;"  "  Gold  "  and 
'  rags,"  "  happy  "  and  "miserable  "  are  set  in  opposi- 
tion, in  order  to  give  a  double  illustration  of  the  senti- 
tent,  "  Happiness  is  not.  dependent  on  what  we  pos- 
eis."     The  resultant  idea  derived  from  both  members 


LAWS  OF  FORM.  23^ 

/ 

of  an  antithesis  is,  in  force,  not  unlike  a  conclusion 
that  has  been  established  by  both  negative  and  affirma- 
tive proof. 

(2)  The  Natural  Form  of  Antithesis.— Thejtorm 

of  the  antithesis  is  naturally,  but  not  necessarily,  the"" 
balanced  sentence.  This  form  of  sentential  structure, 
renders  the  opposition  more  evident  to  the  eye  or  ear 
thus  insuring  the  perception  of  the  antithetical  effect. 
Thus,  in  the  sentence,  "Faithful  are  the  wounds  of  a 
friend,  but  deceitful  are  the  kisses  of  an  enemy ;"  the 
opposition  of  like  parts  of  speech,  "faithful"  and 
"deceitful"  "  wounds"  and  "kisses"  "friend"  and 
"enemy"  and  the  corresponding  length  of  the  two 
members,  give  additional  force  to  the  antithesis  of 
thought.  The  structure  of  the  sentence  has  much  to 
do  with  the  effect  of  the  following  stanza  : 

"  In  peace  there's  nothing  so  becomes  a  man 
As  mild  be?iavior  and  humanity  ; 
But  when  the  blast  of  war  blows  in  our  ears, 
Let  us  be  tigers  in  our  fierce  deportment." 

Sometimes  the  antithesis  lies  almost  wholly  m  the 
structure  of  the  sentence.  Thus,  in  Pope's  well-known 
comparison  of  Homer  and  Virgil  commencing,  "  Ho- 
mer was  the  greater  genius,  Virgil  the  better  artist  ;" 
there  is  no  contrast  of  opposition  between  "genius" 
and  "artist,"  "man"  and  "work,"  "profusion"  and 
"magnificence."  Frequently  there  is  real  antithesis 
without  the  balanced  structure.  Thus  the  innocence 
of  Lucretia  and  the  violence  of  Sextus  are*  contrasted 
in  these  lines  : 

'*  Now  look  ye  where  she  lies, 
That  beauteous  flower,  that  innocent  sweet  roae, 
Torn  up  by  ruthless  violence." 


240  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

(3)  Laws  of  Antithesis,— The  nature  of  antithesis 
renders  easy  the  deduction  of  two  laws  :  (1)  since  the 
balanced  form  displays  the  contrast  most  clearly,  inter- 
preting power  is  economized  by  uniformity  in  the 
length  and  structure  of  the  contrasted  members ;  and 
(2)  since  the  antithetical  form  becomes  monotonous 
from  this  uniformity,  antitheses  should  not  be  very 
frequent. 

2.  Climax. 

Climax,  or  the  rhetorical  ladder,  consists  in  such  an 
irrangement  of  ideas  in  a  series  as  to  secure  a  gradual 
increase  of  impressiveness.  It  is  based  on  the  principle 
Df  contrast.  Antithesis  contrasts  objects  by  bringing 
them  together  in  opposition  ;  climax  contrasts  objects 
by  exhibiting  their  degrees  of  difference  through  a  se- 
ries of  intermediates.  u  It  is  observed  by  all  travelers 
who  have  visited  the  Alps,  or  other  stupendous  moun- 
tains, that  they  form  a  very  inadequate  notion  of  the 
vastness  of  the  greater  ones,  till  they  ascend  some  of 
the  less  elevated,  (which  yet  are  huge  mountains),  and 
thence  view  the  others  still  towering  above  them.  And 
the  mind,  no  less  than  the  eye,  can  not  so  well  take  in 
and  do  justice  to  any  vast  object  at  a  single  glance,  as 
by  several  successive  approaches  and  repeated  com- 
parisons." * 

Cicero  has  used  the  climax  with  great  effect  in  his 
"  Oration  against  Verres."  Withholding  the  real 
crime  for  a  moment,  he  refers  to  the  atrocity  of  lesser 
offenses,  thus  magnifying  the  guilt  of  Verres  by  a  se- 
ries of  contrasts  : — "  It  is  an  outrage  to  bind  a  Roman 
citizen  ;  to  scourge  him  is  an  atrocious  crime  ;  to  put 

*  Whately's  Rhetoric,  Part  II.  Chap.  ii.  §  4. 


LAWS   OF  FORM.  241 

him  to  death  is  almost  parricide ;  but  to  CRUCIFY  him 
— what  shall  I  call  it  ?" 


II.     IMPLIED  CONTRAST. 

The  figures  in  which  an  expressed  idea  is  contrasted 
with  an  implied  opposite  are  EPIGRAM,  INTERROGA- 
TION and  IRONY. 

1.  Epigram. 

The  epigram,  like  the  antithesis,  is  based  on  an  ob- 
vious contrariety.  Primarily  the  word  meant  an  inscrip- 
tion- on  a  monument.  It  is  used  also  to  signify  any 
terse  or  pointed  expression.  It  is  here  employed  in  a 
special  sense,  to^  designate  those  forms  of  expression 
in  which  there  is  a  contradiction  between  the  real 
and  the  apparent  moaning  ;  as,  "  Verbosity  is  cured 
by  a  wide  vocabulary  ;"  "  Conspicuous  for  absence;99 
"Some  are  too  foolish  to  commit  follies." 

That  such  apparent  contradictions  have  any  tend- 
ency to  economize  interpreting  power  is  not  clear. 
They  possess  two  qualities  which  in  part  compensate 
foFtlieTr  contradictory  character.  They  are  necessarily 
brief,  so  that  the  mind  is  not  confused  with  a  compli- 
ea'tecl  structure  ;  and,  appearing  to  violate  a  law  of 
thought,  thejjstmmlate  to  unusual  interest..  A  series 
of  epigrams  rapidly  delivered  would  be  unintelligible. 
A  style  too  epigrammatic  is  generally  wearisome.  Such 
a  style  is  better  adapted  to  be  a  depository  of  thought 
than  to  be  a  medium  of  communication,  since,  when 
the  sense  is  once  grasped,  the  brevity  and  paradox  of 
the  form  of  expression  fix  it  in  the  memory.  The__epi-_ 
gram,  therefore,  is  the  natural  garb  of  the  proverb. 
11  "~~ 


242  THE  SCIENCE  OE  KKE10RIO. 

2.  Interrogation. 

An  interrogaticua  may  be  a  part  of  plain  speech,     Ii_ 

becomes  figurative  when  it  is  an  affirmation  in  the  foj  ir 
of  a  question.  Thus,  "Shall  not  the  Judge  of  all  the 
earth  do  right  ?  "  is  meant  to  be  an  emphatic  affirma- 
tion that  He  will  do  right.  The  reason  of  the  empha- 
sis in  the  interrogative  form  is  obvious.  It  has  been 
shown  that  differences  are  more  evident  when  contra- 
ries are  brought  into  one  conception.  The  interroga- 
tion forces  upon  the  attention  at  once  both  an  affirm- 
ative and  a  negative  answer.  Thus  the  affirmative  and 
negative  answers  are  brought  into  contrast,  and  the 
affirmative  is  admitted  from  the  impossibility  of  the 
negative. 

3.  Irony. 

Irony  also  involves  the  principle  of  contrast.  It 
consists  in  putting  an  assumption  in  the  place  of  a 
known  truth,  that  the  truth  may  be  made  more  im- 
pressive by  the  contrast.  A  single  example,  from 
Whit  tier,  will  illustrate  this  : 

"  What  has  the  gray-haired  prisoner  done? 
Has  murder  stained  his  hands  with  gore? 
Not  so.     His  crime's  a  fouler  one — 
God  made  the  old  man  poor." 

Here  the  poet,  pleading  for  the  abolition  of  im 
prisonment  for  debt,  represents  poverty  as  a  crime. 
That  it  is  not  a  crime  to  be  born  poor  is  self-evident, 
bat  its  guiltlessness  is  made  the  clearer  by  beini.' 
brought  into  the  same  view  with  murder,  from  which 
it  "is  so  different.  The  contrast  is  heightened  by  rep- 


LAWS   OF  FORM.  243 

resenting  poverty  as  a  fouler  crime  than  murder. 
Hence  we  may  conclude,  that  irony  depends  upon  the 

contrast  between  the  truth  and  an  assumption.  Con- 
clusive proof  of  this  is  found  in  the  fact,  that  a  state- 
ment is  not  recognized  as  ironical  if  its  untruthfulnesi 
'a  not  apparent 


ECONOMY    OF    THE    FEELINGS. 

1.  The  Effect  of  Words  on  the  Sensibilities. 

WE  have  seen  how  language  must  be  framed  in 
order  to  economize  the  powers  of  ii^rpwtgj^nj  we 
have  now  txTconsider  how  the  power  of  feeling  may  be 
economized. 

Words  as  mere  sounds,  apart  from  their  meaning, 
have  an  effect  upon  the  sensibilities.  Some  combina- 
tions of  words  are  agreeable,  others  disagreeable,  to  the 
listener,  and,  by  an  unavoidable  association,  even  to  the 
silent  reader.  It  is  clear,  then,  that  forms  of  expres- 
sion, aside  from  their  sense,  may  mar  the  realization  of 
the  idea,  either  by  producing  feelings  which  divert  the 
attention  from  it,  or  which  are  not  in  harmony  with  it. 
The  state  of  feeling  best  adapted  to  interpretation  is 
that  of  agreeable  stimulation  derived  from  the  easy  and 
uninterrupted  movement  of  the  machinery  of  expres- 
sion. As  soon  as  the  words  grate  upon  the  ear,  or  the 
construction  halts,  we  are  conscious  of  a  disagreeable 
feeling,  and  a  consequent  inability  to  use  all  our 
powers  in  realizing  the  idea. 

2.  Hamilton's  Theory  of  the  Feelings. 

Sir  William  HamiljpH^in  his  theory  of  pleasure  and 
pain,  regards  agreeable  and  disagreeable  feelings  as  the 


LAWS  OP  FORM.  245 

results  respectively  of  a  norma.  or  an  abnormal  activity 
of  natural  powers.     He  says  : 

"  By  relation  to  the  object  about  which  it  is  con- 
versant, an  energy  is  perfect,  when  this  object  is  of 
such  a  character  as  to  afford  to  its  power  the  condition 
requisite  to  let  it  spring  to  full  spontaneous  activity  ; 
imperfect,  when  the  object  is  of  such  a  character  as 
either,  on  the  one  hand,  to  stimulate  the  power  to  a 
continuance  of  activity  beyond  its  maximum  of  free 
exertion  ;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  thwart  it  in  its 
tendency  towards  this  its  natural  limit.  An  object  is, 
consequently,  pleasurable  or  painful,  inasmuch  as  it 
thus  determines  a  power  to  perfect  or  imperfect 
energy."  * 

3.  Application  of  the  Theory  to  Expression. 

Now,  since  expression  exists  for  the  idea  merely, 
and  since  the  realization  of  the  idea  affords  to  the  mind 
its  natural  play  of  activity,  every  diversion  of  the  mind 
caused  by  the  form  of  expression  which  does  not  assist 
in  revealing  the  idea,  determines  an  imperfect  energy, 
which  is  disagreeable.  Hence  the  highest  activity  in 
realizing  the  idea  depends  on  the  economy  of  the  feel- 
ings, by  removing  all  causes  of  diversion  and  discord. 
Any  activity  prolonged  beyond  what  is  customary,  be- 
comes disagreeable  ;  hence  the  law  of  Variety.  The 
simultaneous  exertion  of  the  same  faculty  in  contrary 
directions  is  disagreeable  ;  hence  the  law  of  Harmony. 
These  two  laws  will  be  more  fully  illustrated  in  thi 
following  sections. 


*  Metaphysics. 


246  THE  SCIENCE  OF   KHETORIO. 

SECTION  I. 
VARIETY. 

1.  The  Necessity  of  Variety. 

Every  part  of  our  physical  organization  has  a 
definite  amount  of  force  to  be  used  in  sensation,  and 
when,  by  prolonged  exertion,  this  force  is  expended, 
pain  takes  the  place  of  pleasure.  What  is  true  of  our 
bodies  is  true  analogically  of  our  minds.  Experience 
teaches  that  mental  activities  which  once  gave  delight, 
produce  pain  when  greatly  prolonged.  How  great  a 
prolongation  may  be  pleasurably  endured,  depends 
greatly  on  habit.  The  sounds  of  many  northern  dia- 
lects which  are  so  unpleasant  to  us,  are  musical  to 
those  who  have  heard  them  from  childhood.  Our  own 
speech  would  grate  upon  an  Italian  ear,  unaccustomed 
to  so  many  and  difficult  combinations  of  consonants. 
But,  although  habit  and  training  create  wide  differ- 
ences in  the  sensibilities  of  men,  it  is  a  demand  of 
universal  human  nature  that  we  vary  the  powers  em- 
ployed "  in  any  activity,  and  also  the  mode  of  their 
employment.  Hence  the  necessity  of  variety  in  style. 

2.  The  Applications  of  Variety. 

Variety  is  necessary  in  all  the  elements  of  expres- 
sion. We  shall  notice  its  application  to  the  following  : 
(1)  Letters;  (2)  Words  and  Syllables ;  (3)  Sentences, 
and  (4)  Figures. 

I.     LETTERS. 
In  the  combination  of  letters  the  la?7  of  variety  ma) 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  24* 

be  violated  in  two  ways  :  (1)  by   the  cumulation  of 
Consonants ;  and  (2)  by  the  cumulation  of  Vowels. 

1.  The  Cumulation  of  Consonants. 

Too  many  consonants  taken  together  tax  the  powers 
disagreeably,  as  may  be  seen  in  such  words  as  tioelftlis, 
hundredths,  sixthly,  strengthenedst.  These  words  are 
not  only  difficult  to  pronounce,  but  they  are  unpleasant 
to  the  ear.  Whether  their  unpleasantness  to  the  ear  is 
owing  wholly  to  an  association  of  the  Found  with  the 
difficulty  of  utterance,  or  partly  to  ?  straining  of  a 
perceptive  power  beyond  its  habitual  limit,  is  a  curious 
question  whose  decision  would  not  practically  affect  the 
law  of  variety.  There  may  be  some  reason  to  suppose 
the  latter,  from  the  fact  that  no  ono  of  these  letters  is 
disagreeable  if  sounded  by  itself,  and  that  any  letter 
becomes  disagreeable  if  repeated  continually. 

A  succession  of  consonants  of  different  orders  ren- 
ders the  effect  still  more  disagreeable.  Mutes  are  di- 
vided into  surd  and  sonant,  according  as  they  are 
formed  of  voiced  or  unvoiced  breath.  The  transition 
of  the  vocal  organs  from  the  production  of  a  surd  to 
the  production  of  a  sonant,  is  difficult.  Thus  it  is  im 
possible  to  pronounce  the  syllable  sft/#,  without  making 
the  "f"  a  "v,"  or  the  "d"  a  <  t." 

2.  The  Cumulation  of  Vowels. 

A  succession  of  vowels  produces  a  hiatus  which  is 
lisagreeable.  Hence  the  tendency  to  separate  them  by 
the  insertion  of  a  consonant-  *xs,  an  ox,  an  army, 
rather  than,  a  ox,  a  army. 


248  THE  SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 


II.     WORDS  AND  SYLLABLES. 

Variety  in  the  use  of  words  and  syllables  is  violaied 
(1)  by  the  recurrence  of  the  same  sound, — Tautophony 
and  (2)  by  the  recurrence  of  the  accent  at   regula* 
intervals, — Meter. 

1.  Tautophony. 

(1)  Offensive  Tautophony.— The  unpleasant  effect 
of  the  repetition  of  the  same  sound  in  the  following 
sentence  is  felt  at  once  :  "  The  Captain  ordered  the 
Orderly  to  order  the  ordnance   arranged  in    order." 
The  substitution  of  synonyms  for  some  of  these  words 
improves  the  effect. 

The  recurrence  of  the  same  syllable  often  be- 
comes offensive.  Thus  holily,  lowlily,  uniform  for- 
mality) are  unpleasant  to  the  ear.  Dr.  Johnson  says  : 
"  Tediousness  is  the  most  fatal  of  all  faults"  Here 
the  first  two  words  hiss  sharply,  and  the  sentence  ends 
with  an  unmelodious  repetition  of  "  aL"  Clearness  of 
meaning  sometimes  renders  such  collocations  difficult 
to  avoid. 

(2)  Intentional  Tautophony. — In  alliterative  and 
consonantal  rhyme,  tautophony  is  purposely  employed. 
How  such  repetition  of  sounds  becomes  subservient  to 
expression  will  presently  appear. 

1)  Absenoe  of  Intentional  Rhyme  in  the  Classic 
Languages, — Mr.  Marsh  observes  that  "  It  has  been 
thought  singular  that  with  the  multitude  of  like  ter- 
minations, and  the  great  sensibility  of  the  Greek  and 
Latin  ear,  neither  rhyme,  alliteration,  nor  accent 
should  have  become  metrical  elements,  but  that,  on  the 


LAWS  OP  FOUM.  249 

contrary,  repetition  of  sound  in  all  its  forms  should 
have  been  sedulously  avoided."*  He  then  offers  the 
following  explanation  of  this  fact :  "  The  frequent  re- 
»urrence  of  like  sounds  in  those  languages  was  una- 
/oidable  ;  ifc  was  a  grammatical  necessity,  and  if  such 
sounds  had  been  designedly  introduced  as  rhymes,  and 
thus  made  still  more  conspicuous,  they  could  not  but 
have  been  as  offensive  to  the  delicacy  of  ancient  ears  as 
excessive  alliteration  is  to  our  own.  To  them  such 
obvious  coincidences  appeared  too  gross  to  be  regarded 
as  proper  instrumentalities  in  so  ethereal  an  art  as 
poetry,  and  they  constructed  a  prosody  depending 
simply  on  the  subtilest  element  of  articulation,  the 
quantity  or  relative  length  of  the  vowels." 

2)  Reason  of  this  Absence. — The  absence  of  in- 
tentional rhyme  in  Greek  and  Latin  poetry  results  not 
so  much  from  its  grossness  as  from  its  inutility.  In 
English,  rhyme  is  a  real  auxiliary  of  poetic  expression. 
That  there  is  something  persistent  in  it,  is  evident 
from  the  fact  that  it  has  triumphed  over  the  violent 
opposition  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  Ben  Jonson,  and  Mil- 
ton. Rhyme  came  into  our  language  as  a  constituent 
element  of  poetry  just  at  the  time  when  English  was 
passing,  or,  more  strictly,  had  passed  from  an  inflected 
to  an  uninflected  form  of  speech.  Latin  contain? 
many  more  rhyming  words  than  any  other  spoken  Ian 
guage,  but  Italian  contains  four  times  as  many  as  Eng- 
lish, and  Spanish  six  times  as  many  as  English. 
Ilhyme  becomes  subservient  to  poetical  expression  by 
the  fewness  of  rhyming  words.  In  a  language  so  poor 
in  rhymes  as  English,  rhyme  economizes  expectant  at- 
tention by  the  regular  introduction  of  corresponding 

*  Lectures  on  the  English  Language. 

11* 


250  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RfiETORtO 

forms.  When  one  of  the  rhyming  words  is  given,  we 
can  almost  predict  what  its  mate  will  be.  We  cannot 
indeed,  always  name  the  exact  word,  but,  since  the 
conditions  of  the  case  limit  the  number  of  possible 
words,  we  are  prepared  for  a  word  of  a  certain  kind. 
fn  Spanish,  words  have  on  the  average  twenty-five 
rhymes  each.  It  is  clear  that  in  Latin  the  number 
would  be  so  great  as  to  afford  no  clew  to  what  word 
would  be  given.  Hence  the  Romans  never  intention- 
ally or  spontaneously  wrote  rhyme.  In  English,  words 
average  only  three  rhymes  each.  Hence,  since  the 
language  has  "lost  its  inflections,  rhyming  poems  are 
.he  most  common.  Knowing  the  ending  of  a  rhyming 
word  before  it  is  given,  we  are  in  possession  of  the 
ftrhole  before  it  is  pronounced,  and  accordingly  have  a 
fraction  of  time  to  dwell  upon  the  idea  expressed.  An 
experimental  test  of  this  prediction  of  a  word  may  be 
made  by  causing  some  lines  of  poetry  to  be  read  aloud. 
The  regular  recurrence  of  corresponding  syllables  re- 
lieves the  listener  of  a  certain  amount  of  attention. 
That  economized  attention  may  be  devoted  to  the  re- 
.Jization  of  the  ideas.  This  economy  of  expectant 
attention  depends  on  the  regularity  of  the  rhyme. 
Here  is  another  reason  why  rhymes  are  not  common  iu 
innVcted  languages,  since  they  would  occur  in  the  mid- 
dle of  lines  as  well  as  at  the  end.  In  English,  the 
regularity  compensates  for  the  lack  of  variety.  Nor  is 
fcho  regular  recurrence  of  rhyme  a  serious  violation  of 
variety,  for  different  sounds  intervene  between  the 
rhyming  words. 

3)  The  Adaptation  of  Ehyme  to  Poetry.— We 

find  here  also  an  explanation  of  the  adaptation  of 
rhymed  verse  to  poetic  ideas.  Emotion  is  a  subjective 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  251 

state,  and  is  interrupted  by  any  objective  diversion  of 
the  attention.  Pain  and  grief  for  example  are  forgot 
ton  when  the  mind  is  occupied  with  externals.  But 
rhyme,  hy  the  economy  of  expectant  attention,  reduces 
the  causes  of  diversion  ;  for,  substituting  the  regularity 
of  periodic  consonance  for  the  irregularity  of  prose, 
it  leaves  the  mind  more  completely  absorbed  in  the 
contemplation  of  emotive  images. 

2.  Meter. 

The  regular  recurrence  of  the  accent  constitutes 
meter.  This  regular  movement  economizes  expectant 
attention  by  the  certainty  that  a  definite  structure  will 
follow. 

(1)  Proof  of  the  Value  of  Meter,— A  proof  that  the 

structure  is  anticipated  is  found  in  the  fact  that  a  shock 
of  disappointment  is  felt  when  the  meter  is  imperfect. 
One  may  descend  a  flight  of  steps  in  the  dark  with 
vapidity  and  safety,  if  the  steps  are  all  equal,  but  one 
is  sure  to  be  impeded  by  inequalities.  Why  is  this  ?  It 
is  evidently  owing  to  the  certainty  of  uniformity  in  the 
steps,  and  the  consequent  removal  of  the  necessity  for 
constant  attention.  In  other  words,  it  is  the  economy 
of  expectant  attention.  So  in  a  metrical  composition, 
die  uniformity  of  structure  relieves  the  mind  from  ex- 
pectant attention. 

(2)  Example. — An  example  will  illustrate  this  state- 
ment.    The  following   description  in  prose  demands 
some  attention  to  the  irregular  construction  of  the  sen- 
tences, which  abstracts  just  so  much  power  from  the 
total  ability  of  the  mind  to  feel  the  beauty  of  the  scene 
described : 

"  The  sinuous  paths  of  moss  and  lawn  that  lie  across 


252  THE   SCIENCE   OF  RHETORIC. 

and  along  through  this  gai den,  some  at  once  ojvn  to 
the  breeze  and  the  sun,  some  lost  among  bowers  of 
blossoming  trees,  were  all  paved  with  delicate  bells  and 
daisies,  as  fair  as  the  fabulous  asphodels,  and  flowerets, 
drooping  as  day  drooped,  that  fell  into  blue,  purple, 
and  white  pavilions,  to  roof  the  glow-worm  from  the 
dew  of  evening." 

See  now  how  much  more  impressive  the  loveliness  oi 
this  scene  becomes,  when  the  poet's  art,  by  rhyme  and 
ineter,  removes  the  necessity  of  attention  to  the  sen- 
tential structure  : 

"  And  the  sinuous  paths  of  lawn  and  moss, 
That  led  through  this  garden  along  and  acrosa 
Some  open  at  once  to  the  sun  and  the  breeze, 
Some  lost  among  bowers  of  blossoming  trees, 
Were  all  paved  with  daisies  and  delicate  bells 
As  fair  as  the  fabulous  asphodels, 
And  flowerets  drooping  as  day  drooped  too, 
Fell  into  pavilions  white,  purple,  and  blue, 
To  roof  the  glow-worm  from  the  evening  dew." 

(3)  The  Adaptation  of  Meter  to  Poetry.— It  ia 
evident  that  meter  is  not  so  well  adapted  to  the  ex- 
pression of  pure  thought  as  to  the  expression  of  pure 
feeling,  or  the  emotive  images  which  produce  feeling. 
There  is  an  incongruity  between  pure  thought  and  any 
uniform  structure.  A  predetermined  measure  is  a  fet- 
ter to  the  expression  of  abstract  thought,  and  its  stiff- 
noss  appears  in  the  more  purely  thoughtful  passages  of 
diaactic  poetry.  Meter  often  necessitates  inversions 
and  transpositions  which  obscure  the  thought.  Bhyme 
limits  the  vocabulary  too  much  for  the  exact  expres- 
sion of  pure  thought.  Hence  intellective  statements 
are  awkward  in  verse.  The  expression  of  emotion, 


LAWS   OF    FORM.  253 

however,  finds  in  verse  no  real  barrier.  Emotion  ia 
less  dependent  on  exact  propositions,  and  arises  more 
from  affecting  images,  which  may  be  combined  as 
lendily  in  meter  as  without  it. 

(1)  Rhythm. — Rhythm  differs  from  meter  in  re 
quiring  a  less  regular  recurrence  of  accent.  Aristotle 
holds  that  every  prose  sentence  should  possess  rhythm 
but  not  meter.  The  practice  of  the  best  ancient 
writers  evinces  an  aesthetic  perception  of  rhythmical 
beauty  seldom  equaled  by  the  moderns. 

(5)  Meter  no  Violation  of  Variety,— Meter  is  an 

apparent  violation  of  the  law  of  variety,  but  it  is  only 
apparent.  Thought  requires  freedom  of  movement 
for  its  full  and  natural  expression ;  hence  great  variety 
is  essential  to  prose,  and  its  proper  movement  is  rhyth- 
mical. Emotion  is  best  produced  by  contemplating 
a  series  of  emotive  images,  without  any  abstraction  of 
he  attention,  hence  its  proper  movement  is  metrical 
6  The  jerks,  the  breaks,  the  inequalities,  and  harsh 
nesses  of  prose,  are  fatal  to  the  flow  of  a  poetical  im- 
agination, as  a  jolting  road  or  stumbling  horse  disturbs 
the  reverie  of  an  absent  man.  But  poetry  makes  these 
odds  all  even.  It  is  the  music  of  language  answering 
to  the  music  of  mind  ;  untying,  as  it  were,  '  the  secret 
soul  of  harmony.'  Wherever  any  object  takes  such  a 
hold  of  the  mind,  by  which  it  seeks  to  prolong  and  re- 
peat the  emotion,  to  bring  all  other  objects  into  accord 
with  it,  and  to  give  the  same  movement  of  harmony, 
sustained  and  continuous,  or  gradually  varied  accord- 
ing to  the  occasion,  to  the  sounds  that  express  it — this 
is  poetry.  There  is  a  deep  connection  between  music 
and  deep-rooted  passion.  In  ordinary  speech  we  arrive 
at  a  certain  harmony  by  modulations  of  the  voice  ;  in 


254  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

poetry  the  same  thing  is  done  systematically  by  a  regu- 
lar collocation  of  syllables."  *  Variety  is  necessary 
even  in  verse,  but  it  is  variety  in  uniformity.  The 
cajsuras,  emphases,  and  rhetorical  suspensions  break 
the  monotony  of  the  measure.  The  distinction  be- 
tween the  variety  required  in  prose  and  in  poetry  is 
based  on  this  :  feeling  is  a  state,  and  must  not  be  dis- 
turbed ;  thought  is  a  process,  and  lives  by  motion. 

III.    SENTENCES. 

Variety  applies  (1)  to  the  length,  and  (2)  to  the 
structure  of  sentences. 

1.  Length. 

Dr.  Blair's  observations  on  this  point  can  scarcely  be 
improved.  He  says  :  "  If  we  would  keep  up  the  atten- 
tion of  the  reader  or  hearer,  if  we  would  preserve 
vivacity  and  strength  in  our  composition,  we  must  be 
very  attentive  to  vary  our  measures.  .  .  Short  sen- 
tences should  be  mixed  with  long  and  swelling  ones,  to 
render  discourse  sprightly  as  well  as  magnificent."  f 
Closeness  of  attention  to  musical  effect  may  itself  be 
come  a  source  of  monotony  by  the  too  frequent  repeti- 
tion of  a  typical  sentence  which  by  itself  is  melodious. 
Discords  are  purposely  introduced  into  music  to  break 
the  monotony  of  excessive  sweetness. 

2.  Structure. 

Sentences  similarly  constructed  soon  become  weari 
some.  Variety  should  extend  to  the  distribution  oJ 
members  and  the  cadence  of  the  period.  It  has  been 

*  Hazlitt's  Lectures  on  Poetry,  I  -ecture  I.  f  RJietoric. 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  255 

shown  ihat  the  different  kinds  of  sentence,  the  loose, 
the  periodic,  and  the  balanced,  have  their  peculiai 
offices  in  expression.  Variety  in  sentential  structure  is 
-XT tain  to  follow  from  variety  and  affluence  of  ideas, 
for  each  succeeding  idea  will  naturally  assume  a  form 
corresponding  to  itself.  Dr.  Blair  says  truly  :  "  To 
have  only  one  tune,  or  measure,  is  not  much  better 
than  having  none  at  all.  A  very  vulgar  ear  will  enable 
a  writer  to  catch  some  one  melody,  and  to  form  the  run 
of  his  sentences  according  to  it;  which  soon  proves 
disgusting/7  * 

IV.     FIGURES. 

Variety  in  the  use  of  figures  may  be  violated  in  two 
ways  :  (1)  by  using  such  as  are  similar ;  and  (2)  by 
using  them  too  profusely. 

1.  Similarity. 

The  repetition  of  any  one  kind  of  figure,  such  as 
metaphor,  climax,  antithesis,  or  hyperbole,  renders  a 
composition  wearisome.  This  is  especially  the  case 
when  they  are  drawn  from  one  object.  Trite  similes 
and  metaphors  want  the  charm  of  novelty,  which  is  a 
form  of  variety. 

2.  Profusion. 

Too  many  figures  of  whatever  kind  produce  a  feel- 
ing of  satiety,  as  the  palate  is  sated  by  immoderate 
indulgence.  Cicero  says  :  "In  all  human  things,  dis- 
gust borders  so  nearly  on  the  most  lively  pleasures,  that 
we  need  not  be  surprised  to  find  this  hold  in  speech. 

*  Rhetoric. 


256  THE   SCIENCE  OF   RHETORIC. 

From  reading  either  poets  or  orators  we  may  easiljf 
satisfy  ourseh  cs,  that  neither  a  poem  nor  an  oration, 
which,  without  intermission,  is  showy  and  sparkling, 
can  please  us  long."*  Quintilian  says  of  figures,  that, 
'as  they  beautify  composition  when  they  are  season- 
ably introduced,  so  they  deform  it  greatly,  if  too  fre- 
quently sought  after."!  Crowding  together  many  fig- 
ures is  certain  to  result  in  confusion,  which,  aside  from 
the  violation  of  the  law  of  variety,  is  a  sufficient  reason 
for  their  moderate  use. 

SECTION  II. 
HARMONY. 

It  is  a  mysterious  but  universally  known  fact,  that 
harmony  gives  pleasure  and  discord  pain.  It  is  so  in 
music,  in  painting,  and  in  architecture,  as  well  as  in 
speech.  This  appears  to  be  partly  owing  to  the  unity 
of  action  of  our  faculties  in  receiving  impressions.  As 
variety  relieves  them  from  too  prolonged  an  exertion, 
harmony  secures  unity  in  their  action.  There  is,  there- 
fore, an  economy  of  sensitive  power  when  the  constitu- 
ents of  a  compound  object  so  correspond  as  to  allow  a 
harmonious  action  of  the  mental  powers  exerted  upon 
it.  Hence  the  importance  of  harmony  between  the 
idea  and  the  medium  in  expression.  The  law  of  liar 
mony  applies  (1)  to  Sounds,  and  (2)  to  Figures. 

I.     SOUNDS. 

There  has  been  much  discussion  of  the  question, 
How  far  may  sound  be  an  echo  to  the  sense  ?  Some 

*  De  Oratore,  L.  IIL  f  Institutes,  I.  IX.  3. 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  257 

find  numerous  correspondences  between  words  and 
things.  Others  regard  their  connection  as  wholly  im- 
aginary,  and,  if  there  be  any 'imitation,  they  deem  it 
as  wholly  accidental.  It  seems  evident,  after  a  careful 
study  of  examples,  that  speech  has  an  illustrative  power 
which  depends  on  imitation  or  a  very  intimate  and  gen 
eral  mental  association.  Without  attempting  an  ex- 
haustive treatment  of  so  technical  a  subject,  we  may 
notice  the  illustrative  effect  of  articulate  language  in 
representing  (1)  other  sounds ;  (2)  time  and  motion  ; 
(3)  size  ;  (4)  ease  and  difficulty  ;  (5)  the  agreeable  and 
the  disagreeable ;  and  (6)  climax  in  sense. 

1.  Other  Sounds. 

Some  words  unquestionably  imitate  natural  inartir 
alate  sounds.     Thus  hiss,   whiz,  crash  and  splash,  a? 
ordinarily  uttered,  correspond  closely  to  the  noises  foi 
which  they  stand.     There  is  certainly  an  onomatopoetk 
effect  in  the  following  lines  from  Pope  : 

"  What !  like  Sir  Richard,  rough  and  fierce, 
With  arms,  and  George,  and  Brunswick  crowd  the  verse 
Rend  with  tremendous  sounds  your  ears  asunder, 
With  gun,  drum,  trumpet,  blunderbuss, and  thunder? 
Then  all  your  muse's  softer  art  display, 
Let  Carolina  smooth  the  tuneful  lay, 
Lull  with  Amelia's  liquid  name  the  nine, 
And  sweetly  flow  through  all  the  royal  line/' 

The  following  is  a  fine  imitation  of  the  sounds  mad 
by  falling  timber  : 

14  Deep-echoing  groan  the  thickets  brown. 
Then  rustling,  crackling,  crashing,  thunder  down." 


258  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 


2.  Time  and  Motion. 

Quick  time  and  lively  motion   are  imitated  by  a 
succession  of  light  and  tripping  syllables ;  as  in  the 

line, 

"  When  the  merry  bells  ring  round." 

The  galloping  of  a  horse  is  suggested  by  the  move- 
ment of  these  lines  : 

"  At  each  bound  he  could  feel  his  scabbard  of  steel 
Striking  his  stallion's  flanks." 

Slow  motion  is  expressed  in  the  line, 
"  Up  the  high  hill  he  heaves  the  huge  round  stone." 

Slowness  of  motion  and  dignity  are  indicated  by 
ambics,  as  in  the  following  : 

The  list'ning  crowd  admire  the  lofty  sound, 

A  present  deity,  they  shout  around, 

A  present  deity,  the  vaulted  roofs  rebound. 

With  ravished  ears 

The  monarch  hears, 

Assumes  the  god, 

Affects  to  nod, 
And  seems  to  shake  the  spheres/' 

Quick  time  and  motion  are  expressed  by  trochee^ 
as  in  this  song  to  the  wine  god  : 

"  Bacchus  ever  fair  and  young 
Drinking  joys  did  first  ordain. 
Bacchus'  blessings  are  a  treasure 
Drinking  is  the  soldier's  pleasure. 
Rich  the  treasure, 
Sweet  the  pleasure, 
Sweet  is  pleasure  after  pain." 


LAWS   OF   FORM.  259 

Rapidity  and  impetuosity  may  be  represented  in 
anapaests,  as  in  the  following,  where  the  intermingling 
of  iambics  imparts  a  moody  quality  to  the  expression  • 

"  Revenge,  revenge,  Timotlieus  cries, 

See  the  furies  arise  1 

See  the  snakes  that  they  rear, 

How  they  hiss  in  their  hair, 
And  the  sparkles  that  flash  from  their  eyes ! 
Behold  how  they  toss  their  torches  on  high, 
How  they  point  to  the  Persian  abodes 
And  glittering  temples  of  their  hostile  gods. 
The  princes  applaud  with  a  furious  joy  ; 
And  the  king  seized  a  flambeau  with  zeal  to  destroy." 

3.  Size. 

Size  is  capable  of  some  imitation  in  words.  Short 
and  easily  sounded  words  are  often  expressive  of  little- 
ness, while  cumbrous  and  ill-formed  words  are  suggest- 
ive of  bulk,  and  sonorous  combinations  sometimes 
give  rise  to  the  feeling  of  grandeur.  The  following 
from  Milton  illustrates  how  great  bulk  may  be  ex- 
pressed in  verse  : 

"  Part,  huge  of  bulk, 

Wallowing,  unwieldy,  enormous  in  their  gait, 

Tempest  the  ocean." 

4.  Ease  and  Difficulty. 

Pope  forcibly  illustrates  the  excessive  labor  with 
which  a  dull  writer  "  makes  his  barrenness  appear," 

"  And  strains  from  hard  bound  brains  eight  lines  a  year." 
Ease  of  movement  is  suggested  by  these  lines  : 

"  Soft  is  the  stream  when  Zephyr  gently  blows, 
And  the  smooth  stream  in  smoother  numbers  flows." 


260  T1IE   SCIENCE   OF   RHE10EIC. 

5.  The  Agreeable  and  the  Disagreeable. 

Agreeable  or  disagreeable  feelings  are  produced  bj 
melodious  or  unrnelodious  sounds.  How  delightful  are 
Mic  feelings  aroused  by  such  music  as  this  of  Whittier's  f, 

'  1  love  the  old  melodious  lays 
Which  softly  melt  the  ages  through, 
rl  he  songs  of  Spenser's  golden  days, 
Arcadian  Sidney's  silvery  phrase, 
Sprinkling  our  noon  of  time  with  freshest  morning  dew." 

With  what  irritation  do  we  hear  such  a  line  as  this 
"  Grate  on  their  scrannel  pipes  of  wretched  straw." 

6.  Climax  in  Sense. 

Perhaps  the  most  effective  correspondence  betweer 
Bound  and  sense  occurs  when  a  climax  of  meaning  and 
a  climax  of  sound  coincide.  The  following  sentence 
from  Sterne  admits  of  a  vocal  prolongation  of  the  last 
word,  which  adds  much  to  the  effect : 

"The  accusing  spirit  which  flew  up  to  Heaven's 
Chancery  with  the  oath,  blushed  as  he  gave  it  in  ;  and 
the  recording  angel,  as  he  wrote  it  down,  dropped  a 
tear  upon  the  word,  and  blotted  it  out  forever." 

Notice  how  completely  the  effect  is  lost  by  intro- 
ducing a  number  of  small  and  weak  words  at  the  close  : 

"The  accusing  spirit  which  flew  up  to  Heaven's 
Chancery  with  the  oath,  blushed  as  he  gave  it  in  ;  and 
the  recording  angel  as  he  wrote  it  down,  dropped  a 
tear  on  it,  and  blotted  it  out  once  for  all." 

Since  every  sentence  should  grow  in  the  foice  of  its 
meaning  to  the  close,  the  principle  forbids  the  use  of 
insignificant  words  at  the  end  of  a  sentence,  and  re- 


LAWS    OF   POUM.  261 

quires  the  longest  and  most  sonorous  members  to  be 
placed  last. 

II.     FIGURES. 

Figures  have  various  degrees  of  adaptability  to  the 
purposes  of  expression.  This  regards  (1)  the  kinds  ol 
figures;  (2)  their  number;  and  (3)  the  objects  from 
ivhich  they  are  drawn. 

1,  The  Kinds  of  Figures, 

Calm  reasoning  and  deliberate  description  direct  us 
to  the  choice  of  figures  founded  on  resemblance.  The 
simile  especially  is  adapted  to  what  is  unimpassioned, 
since  to  express  a  resemblance  implies  a  somewhat  de- 
liberate discrimination.  On  the  other  hand,  impetu- 
ous passions,  obliterating  fine  distinctions,  and  seizing 
only  salient  points,  impel  us  to  the  use  of  figures 
founded  on  contiguity.  Of  figures  founded  on  resem- 
blance, the  metaphor  is  most  accordant  with  emotion, 
especially  personification,  which  is  peculiar  to  an  emo- 
tional state  of  mind.  The  figures  based  on  contrast 
occupy  a  middle  ground,  but  of  these  the  antithesis  is 
the  most  deliberate,  and  climax,  irony,  and  interroga- 
tion are  more  emotive.  Harmony,  therefore,  requires 
the  selection  of  such  kinds  of  figures  as  correspond  with 
the  ideas  to  be  expressed. 

2.  The  Number  of  Figures. 

That  there  is  a  relation  between  ideas  and  the  num- 
ber of  figures  to  be  used,  is  evident.-  Many  figure? 
crowded  together  confuse  the  understanding  by  their 
want  of  harmony  with  one  another.  If  constructed 
for  a  common  effect  in  producing  emotion,  they  wilJ 


262  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

not  on  account  of  their  number  fail  to  produce  that 
emotion,  unless  they  are  greatly  confused.  Hence  in 
poetry,  the  language  of  feeling,  we  may  properly  use 
figures  in  greater  profusion  than  in  prose,  the  language 
>f  thought. 

3.  The  Source  of  Figures. 

The  objects  from  which  figures  are  drawn  should  be 
in  keeping  with  the  ideas  to  be  expressed.  The  dignity 
or  meanness  of  an  object  from  which  a  metaphor  or  a 
simile  is  drawn,  is  readily  transferred  to  the  object  de- 
scribed. Dean  Swift  has  made  an  extensive  and  hu- 
morous collection  of  examples,  illustrating  how  authors 
may  degrade  instead  of  exalting  their  subjects  by  the 
character  of  their  figures.  * 

When  figures  grow  out  of  the  subject  by  what  might 
be  called  "  spontaneous  generation,"  harmony  is  almost 
inevitable.  Any  attempt  to  lay  them  on  as  external 
ornaments  will  make  the  expression  seem  artificial.  In 
nature,  all  life  develops  from  a  primal  cell ;  in  expres- 
sion, every  thing  should  proceed  by  natural  evolution 
from  a  germ  of  thought.  Thus  a  composition  will 
nave  the  unity  and  symmetry  which  mark  an  organic 
growth. 

The  bestowment  of  excessive  pains  on  the  harmon^ 
of  the  idea  and  the  medium,  is  certain  to  result  in 
failure,  just  as  a  forced  smile  is  certain  to  degenerate 
into  a  foolish  grin.  Milton  speaks  of 

"  Thoughts  that  voluntary  move 
Harmonious  numbers." 

What  are  these  thoughts  ?    When  the  feelings  of  a 
*  The  Art  of  Sinking. — Pope  may  have  written  this. 


LAWS   OF    FORM.  263 

musical  composer  arc  feeble  and  uncertain,  lie  strikes 
the  notes  aimlessly,  and  his  production  possesses  no 
ilistinctive  character.  When  his  emotions  are  definite 
and  strong,  he  sweeps  the  key-board  with  a  power  of 
expression  which  holds  and  thrills  his  audience.  In 
the  first  case,  the  emotions  are  dependent  upon  the 
expression ;  in  the  second,  they  are  free,  and  use  the 
notes  only  as  a  means  of  utterance.  So  in  verbal  ex- 
pression, thoughts  vividly  conceived,  use  the  vocabulary 
us  an  instrument,  while  sluggish  ideas  creep  along  by 
the  help  of  the  language.  Strong  feelings  and  clear 
thoughts  are,  therefore,  the  primary  conditions  of  all 
harmonious  expression.  Art  may  retouch  and  im- 
prove in  some  instances,  but  such  thoughts  and  feelings 
will  spontaneously  assume  those  forms  which  harmonizi 
with  the  ideas  expressed. 


In  the  preceding  pages  the  tf  r*,ory  of  elective  clis 
course  has  been  systematically  e  .plained.  The  practi- 
cal application  of  the  laws  of  discourse  is  twofold  :  (1) 
they  maybe  used  as  criteria  of  judgment  in  Criticism , 
or  (2)  they  may  be  followed  as  guiding  principles  in 
Construction.  Skill  in  any  uft  is  the  result  of  practice. 
The  ready  apprehension  of  merits  and  defects  in  the 
compositions  of  others,  a:.d  facility  in  applying  the 
principles  of  rhetorical  science  in  our  own  works  are  to 
be  acquired  only  by  careful  and  protracted  exercise  in 
criticism  and  production.  While  it  is  true  that  prac 
tice  without  principles  constantly  leads  into  error,  it  is 
also  true  that  principles  without  practice  have  only  a 
theoretical  value.  Hence  great  importance  is  attached 
to  the  practical  use  of  the  laws  of  discourse  both  in 
criticising  the  works  of  others  and  in  original  com- 
position. After  mastering  the  principles  of  Ehetoric, 
the  student  is  prepared  to  examine  literary  productions 
with  intelligent  discrimination.  He  will  be  gratified  to 
find  that  all  truly  effective  writing  and  speaking  are  in 
accord  with  the  laws  which  he  has  learned,  and  that 
compositions  which  ignore  these  laws  are  faulty  in  the 
degree  of  their  departure  from  them.  He  will  find 
also  that  his  own  efforts  will  increase  in  real  value  in 
proportion  to  his  obsi'rvance  of  these  laws.  Each  day's 


EXERCISES.  W5 

practice  in  criticism  and  production  will  contribute 
somewhat  to  the  improvement  of  the  faithful  student, 
•an til  he  will  at  length  become  a  master  of  accurate, 
methodical  and  effective  composition. 

To  this  end  two  kinds  of  exercises  are  added  to  tho 
text  of  this  book,  the  first  critical,  the  second  con- 
structive. The  first  are  intended  to  help  the  learner 
in  discovering  the  faults  and  excellences  of  others,  the 
second  to  assist  him  to  realize  in  his  own  productions 
the  highest  rhetorical  qualities. 

I. 

EXERCISES  IN   CRITICISM. 

The  laws  of  discourse  laid  down  in  the  preceding 
pages  are  not  conditions  which  simply  may  be  fulfilled 
in  the  best  writing,  but  they  must  be  observed  in  all 
really  excellent  discourse.  Like  the  principles  of  rea- 
soning of  which  Logic  treats,  they  are  the  essential 
conditions  of  perfect  results.  Genius  itself  is  not  ex- 
empt from  them,  but  must  ever  be  tested  by  them. 
They  are  the  only  criteria  of  judgment  by  which  we 
may  assign  to  a  writer  his  true  place  in  the  republic  of 
letters.  Just  as  great  generals  often  lose  battles,  and 
great  statesmen  adopt  unwise  measures,  so  great 
writers  often  fail  of  a  uniform  perfection.  Criticism, 
however,  alms  to  discover  the  merits  as  well  as  the 
defects  of  a  composition,  and  it  is  often  more  profitable 
to  observe  how  genius  surmounts  difficulties,  than  to 
perceive  how  readily  it  stumbles  into  errors.  Hence 
the  critical  study  of  the  masterpieces  of  literature  in 
all  departments  is  of  great  practical  utility.  Extracts 
of  considerable  length  would  be  necessary  to  illustrate 
12 


266  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

the  application  of  the  laws  of  mind,  general  and  par 
ficular.  "Shaw's  Choice  Specimens  of  English  Lit 
erature"  may  be  used  in  classes  with  great  advantage. 
A  few  selections  may,  however,  be  introduced  lieie. 

1.  Criticise    the   following  as   specimens   of   De 
/scription. 

(1)  Italy  is  the  central  one  of  the  three  great  peninsulas 
which  project  from  the  south  of  Europe  into  the  Mediterranean 
Sea,     It  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  the  chain  of  the  Alp?, 
which  form  a  natural  barrier,  and  it  is  surrounded  on  the  other 
sides  by  the  sea.     Its  shores  are  washed  on  the  west  by  the 
"Mare  Inferum,"  or  the  Lower  Sea,   and  on  the  east  by  the 
Adriatic,  called  by  the  Romans  the  "Mare  Superum,"  or  the 
Upper  Sea.     It  may  be  divided  into  two  parts,  the  northern 
consisting  of  the  great  plain  drained  by  the  River  Padus,  or 
"Po,"  and  its  tributaries,  and  the  southern  being  a  long 
tongue  of  land,  with  the  Apennines  as  a  back-bone  running 
down  its  whole  extent  from  north  to  south.     The  extreme 
.cngth  of  the  peninsula  from  the  Alps  to  the  Straits  of  Mes- 
sina is  700  miles.     The  breadth  of  northern  Italy  is  350  miles, 
while  that  of  the  southern  portion  is  on  an  average  not  more 
than  100  miles.     But,  till  the  time  of  the  Empire,  the  Romans 
never  included  the  plain  of  the  Po  in  Italy.     To  this  country 
they  gave  the  general  name  of  Gallia  Cisalpina,   or  Gaul  on 
this  (the  Roman)  side  of  the  Alps,  in  consequence  of  its  be- 
jig  inhabited  by  Gauls. — Smith. 

(2)  Greece  is  deficient  in  a  regular  supply  of  water.     Dur- 
ing the  autumnal  and  winter  months  the  rain,  which  falls  in 
Urge  quantities,  fills  the  crevices  in  the  limestone  of  the  hills 
,md  is  carried  off  by  torrents.     In  summer  rain  is  almost  un- 
known and  the  beds  of  the  torrents  full  of  water  in  the  winter 
then  become  ravines,  perfectly  dry  and  overgrown  with  shrubs. 
Even  the  rivers,  which  are  partly  supplied  by  springs,  dwindle 
in  the  summer  to  very  insignificant  streams.  '  None  of  the 
Grecian  rivers  are  navigable,  and  the  Achelous,  which  is  the 
most  considerable  of  all    has  a  course  of  only  130  miles. 


EXERCISES.  8fJ? 

The  chief  productions  of  Greece  in  ancient  timcM  were 
wheat,  barley,  flax,  wine,  and  oil.  The  hills  afforded  excel- 
lent pasture  for  cattle,  and  in  antiquity  were  covered  with 
foiests,  though  they  are  at  present  nearly  destitute  of  wood. 

In  almost  every  part  of  Greece  there  were  rich  veins  of 
marble,  affording  materials  for  the  architect  and  the  sculptor, 
such  as  hardly  any  other  country  in  the  world  possesses.  The 
limestone,  of  which  most  of  its  mountains  is  composed,  is  well 
adapted  for  military  architecture  ;  and  it  is  to  this  hard  and 
intractable  stone  that  we  owe  those  massive  polygonal  walls, 
of  which  the  remains  still  crown  the  summits  'of  so  many 
Grecian  hills.  Laurium  near  the  southern  extremity  of  Attica 
yielded  a  considerable  quantity  of  silver,  but  otherwise  Greece 
was  poor  in  the  precious  rnetals.  Iron  was  found  in  the  range 
of  Taygetus  in  Laconia,  and  copper  as  well  as  iron  near  Chal- 
cis  in  Eubcea. — Smith. 

(3)  The  ff/rcher  is  a  kind  of  dog,  somewhat  resembling  a 
greyhound,  and  supposed  to  derive  its  origin  from  some  of  the 
old  rough-haired  races  of  greyhound  crossed  with  the  shep- 
herd's dog.     It  is  lower,  stouter,  and  less  elegant  than  the 
greyhound,  almost  rivals  it  in  fleetness,  and  much  excels  it  in 
scent.     It  is  covered  with  rough  wiry  hair,  is  usually  of  a 
sandy  red  color,  although  sometimes  black  or  grey  ;  and  has 
half-erect  ears  and  a  pendent  tail.     It  is  the  poacher's  favorite 
dog,  possessing  all  the  qualities  requisite  for  his  purposes,  in 
sagacity  rivaling  the  most  admired  dogs,  and  learning  to  act 
on  the  least  hint  or  sign  from  his  master.     Of  course  it  is  de- 
tested by  gamekeepers,  and  destroyed  on  every  opportunity. 
—  Chambers'  Encyclopedia. 

(4)  In  the  centre  of  the  court,  under  the  blue  Italian  sky, 
and  with  the  hundred  windows  of  the  vast  palace  gazing  down 
upon  it,  from  four  sides,  appears  a  fountain.     It  brims  over 
from  one  stone  basin  to  another,  or  gushes  from  a  Naiad's  urn, 
or  spirts  its  many  little  jets  from  the  mouths  of  nameless 
monsters,  which  were  merely  grotesque  and  artificial  when 
Bernini,  or  whoever  was  their  unnatural  father,  rirst  produced 
them  ;  but  now  the  patches  of  moss,  the  tufts  of  grass,  the 


268  THE   SCIENCE   OF    RHETORIC. 

trailing  maiden-hair,  and  all  sorts  of  verdant  weeds  that  thrive 
in  the  cracks  and  crevices  of  moist  marble,  tell  us  that  Nature 
takes  the  fountain  back  into  her  great  heait,  and  cherishes  it 
as  kindly  as  if  it  were  a  woodland  spring.  And,  hark,  the 
pica 3>iii t  murmur,  the  gurgle,  the  plash  i  You  might  hear 
just  those  tinkling  sounds  from  any  tiny  waterfall  in  the 
forest,  though  here  they  gain  a  delicious  pathos  from  the 
stately  echoes  that  reverberate  their  natural  language.  So  the 
fountain  is  not  altogether  glad,  after  all  its  three  centuries  ol 
play  ! — Hawthorne. 

(5)     A  chieftain's  daughter  seemed  the  maid  ; 
Her  satin  snood,  her  silken  plaid, 
Her  golden  brooch  such  birth  betrayed. 
And  seldom  was  a  snood  amid 
Such  wild  luxuriant  ringlets  hid, 
Whose  glossy  black  to  shame  might  br^ng 
The  plumage  of  the  raven's  wic£  • 
And  seldom  o'er  a  breast  so  fair 
Mantled  a  plaid  with  modest  care  ; 
And  never  brooch  the  folds  combined 
Above  a  heart  more  good  and  kind. 
Her  kindness  and  her  worth  to  spy, 
You  need  but  gaze  on  Ellen's  eye ; 
Not  Katrine,  in  her  mirror  blue, 
Gives  back  the  shaggy  banks  more  true 
Than  every  free-born  glance  confessed 
The  guileless  movements  of  her  breast ; 
Whether  joy  danced  in  her  dark  eye, 
Or  woe  or  pity  claimed  a  sigh, 
Or  filial  love  was  glowing  there, 
Or  meek  devotion  poured  a  prayer, 
Or  tale  of  inj  ury  called  forth 
The  indignant  spirit  of  the  North. 
One  only  passion  unrevealed 
With  maiden  pride  the  maid  concealed, 
Yet  not  less  purely  felt  the  flame  ; 
O  need  I  tell  that  passion 's  name  ! — Scott. 


EXERCISES.  269 

(6)  Formed  in  the  best  proportions  of  her  sex,  Ro \vena 
was  tall  in  stature,  but  not  so  much  so  as  to  attract  observation 
on  account  of  superior  height.  Her  complexion  was  exquisi  tel  y 
fair,  but  the  noble  cast  of  her  head  and  features  prevented  the 
insipidity  which  sometimes  attaches  to  fair  beauties.  He 
clear  blue  eye,  which  sate  enshrined  beneatn  a  graceful  eye 
brow  of  brown  sufficiently  marked  to  give  expression  to  the 
forehead,  seemed  capable  to  kindle  as  well  as  melt,  to  com- 
mand as  well  as  to  beseech.  If  mildness  were  the  more  iiatura1 
expression  of  such  a  combination  of  features,  it  was  plain  that 
in  the  present  instance,  the  exercise  of  habitual  superiority, 
and  the  reception  of  general  homage,  had  given  to  the  Saxon 
lady  a  loftier  character,  which  mingled  with  and  qualified 
that  bestowed  by  nature.  Her  profuse  hair,  of  a  color  be 
twixt  brown  and  flaxen,  was  arranged  in  a  fanciful  and  grace 
ful  manner  in  numerous  ringlets,  to  form  which  art  had  prob- 
ably aided  nature.  These  locks  were  braided  with  gems,  and 
being  worn  at  full  length,  intimated  the  noble  birth  and  free- 
born  condition  of  the  maiden.  A  golden  chain,  to  which 
was  attached  a  small  reliquary  of  the  same  metal  hung  round 
her  neck.  She  wore  bracelets  on  her  arms,  which  were  bare  ; 
her  dress  was  an  undergown  and  kirtle  of  pale  sea-green  silk, 
over  which  hung  a  long  loose  robe,  which  reached  to  the 
ground,  having  very  wide  sleeves,  which  came  down,  how- 
ever, very  little  below  the  elbow.  This  robo  was  crimson, 
and  manufactured  out  of  the  finest  wool.  A  veil  of  silk, 
interwoven  with  gold,  was  attached  to  the  upper  part  of  it, 
which  could  be  at  the  wearer's  pleasure  either  drawn  over  the 
face  and  bosom,  after  the  Spanish  fashion,  or  disposed  as  a  sort 
of  d1  ipery  round  the  shoulders. — Scott. 

(7)  The  Romans,  originally,  were  not  only  frugal,  but  they 
dressed  with  great  simplicity.  In  process  of  time,  they  be- 
came extravagantly  fond  of  elaborately  ornamented  attire, 
especially  the  women.  They  wore  a  great  variety  of  rings 
and  necklaces  ;  they  dyed  their  hair,  and  resorted  to  expensive 
cosmetics  ;  they  wore  silks  of  various  colors,  magnificently 
embroidered.  Pearls  and  rubies,  for  which  large  estates  had 


270  THE   SCIENCE   OF   ItHETOEIC. 

been  exchanged,  were  suspended  from  their  ears.  Their  hail 
glistened  with  a  net-work  of  golden  thread.  Their  slolae 
were  ornamented  with  purple  bands,  and  fastened  with  dia 
mond  clasps,  while  their  pallae  trailed  along  the  ground. 
Jewels  were  embroidered  upon  their  sandals,  and  golden  band?, 
pins,  combs,  and  pomades  .raised  the  hair  in  a  storied  edifice 
upon  the  forehead.  They  reclined  on  luxurious  couches,-  and 
rode  in  silver  chariots.  Their  time  was  spent  in  paying  and 
receiving  visits,  at  the  bath,  the  spectacle,  and  the  banquet. 
Tables,  supported  on  ivory  columns,  displayed  their  costly 
plate  ;  silver  mirrors  were  hung  against  the  walls,  and  curious 
chests  contained  their  jewels  and  money.  Bronze  lamps 
lighted  their  chambers,  and  glass  vases,  imitating  precious 
stones,  stood  upon  their  cupboards.  Silken  curtains  were 
suspended  over  the  doors  and  from  the  ceilings,  and  lecticae, 
like  palanquins,  were  borne  through  the  streets  by  slaves,  on 
which  reclined  the  effeminated  wives  and  daughters  of  the 
rich.  Their  gardens  were  rendered  attractive  by  green-houses, 
flower-beds,  and  every  sort  of  fruit  and  vine. — Lard. 

2.  Criticise  the  following  as  specimens  of  Narra- 
tion. 

(1)  Thick  as  standing  corn,  and  gorgeous  as  a  field  of 
flowers,  were  the  Beloochees  in  their  many-colored  garments 
and  turbans.  They  filled  the  broad  deep  bed  of  the  Fullail- 
lee  ;  they  were  clustered  on  both  banks,  and  covered  the  plain 
beyond.  Guarding  their  heads  with  large  dark  shields,  they 
shook  their  sharp  swords,  gleaming  in  the  sun,  and  their 
shouts  rolled  like  a  peal  of  thunder,  as  with  frantic  might 
and  gestures,  they  dashed  against  the  front  of  the  22d.  But 
with  shrieks  as  wild  and  fierce,  and  hearts  as  big,  and  arms 
as  strong,  the  British  soldiers  met  them  with  the  queen  of 
weapons,  and  laid  their  foremost  warriors  wallowing  in  blood. 
Then  also  the  few  guns  that  could  oe  placed  in  position  on  the 
right  of  the  22d,  flanked  by  Henderson's  small  band  of  Mad- 
ras sappers,  swept  diagonally  the  bed  of  the  river,  tearing  the 
rushing  masses  with  a  horrible  carnage.  Soon  the  Sepo} 


EXERCISES.  #71 

rgiments,  12th  and  25th,  prolonged  the  line  of  fire  to  the 
left,  coming  into  action  successively  in  the  same  terrille  man- 
ner. Clibborne's  grenadiers  were  distant,  skirmishing  with 
the  matchlock  men  in  Kottree  when  they  should  have  charged 

hem  :  but  that  was  their  commander's  fault. 

Now  the  Beloochees  closed  in  denser  masses,  and  the  dread 
ful  rush  of  their  swordsmen  was  felt,  and  their  shouts,  an- 
swered by  the  pealing  musketry,  were  heard  along  the  line, 
and  such  a  fight  ensued  as  has  seldom  been  told  of  in  the 
records  of  war.  For  ever  those  wild  fierce  warriors,  with 
shields  held  high  and  blades  drawn  back,  strove  with  might 
and  valor  to  break  through  the  British  ranks.  No  fire  of 
small  arms,  no  sweeping  discharges  of  grape,  no  push  of 
bayonets  could  drive  them  back  ;  they  gave  their  breasts  to 
the  shot,  their  shields  to  the  bayonets,  and,  leaping  at  the 
guns  were  blown  away  by  twenties  at  a  time  ;  their  dear. 
rolled  down  the  steep  slope  by  hundreds  ;  but  the  gaps  wer< 
continually  filled  from  the  rear,  the  survivors  pressed  forward 
with  unabated  fury,  and  the  bayonet  and  the  sword  clashed 
in  full  and  frequent  conflict. — Napier. 

(2)  While  the  Christian  princes  were  thus  wasting  each 
others  strength,  Solyman  the  Magnificent  entered  Hungary 
with  a  numerous  army,  and  investing  Belgrade,  which  was 
deemed  the  chief  barrier  of  that  kingdom  against  the  Turk- 
ish arms,  soon  forced  it  to  surrender.  Encouraged  by  this 
success,  he  turned  his  victorious  arms  against  the  island  of 
Rhodes,  the  seat,  at  that  time,  of  the  knights  of  St.  John  of 
Jerusalem.  This  small  state  he  attacked  with  such  a  numer- 
ous army  as  the  lords  of  Asia  have  been  accustomed,  in  every 
age,  to  bring  into  the  field.  Two  hundred  thousand  men,  and 
a  fleet  of  400  sail,  appeared  against  a  town  defended  by  a  gar- 
rison consisting  of  5,OOQ  soldiers,  and  600  knights,  under  the 
command  of  Villiers  de  I/Isle  Adam,  the  grand  master,  whose 
wisdom  and  valor  rendered  him  worthy  of  that  station  at  such 
a  dangerous  juncture.  No  sooner  did  he  begin  to  suspect  the 
destination  of  Solyman's  vast  armaments,  than  he  dispatched 
messengers  to  all  the  Christian  courts,  imploring  their  aid 


^72  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

against  the  common  enemy.  But  though  every  prince  in  that 
age  acknowledged  Rhodes  to  be  the  great  bulwark  of  Chris- 
tendom in  the  East,  and  trusted  to  the  gallantry  of  its  knights 
as  the  best  security  against  the  progress  of  the  Ottoman  arms  ; 
though  Adrian,  with  a  zeal  that  became  the  head  and  father 
of  the  Church,  exhorted  the  contending  powers  to  forget  their 
private  quarrels,  and,  by  uniting  their  arms,  to  prevent  the 
infidels  from  destroying  a  society  which  did  honor  to  the 
Christian  name  ;  yet  so  violent  and  implacable  was  the  ani- 
mosity of  both  parties,  that,  regardless  of  the  danger  to  which 
they  exposed  all  Europe,  and  unmoved  by  the  entreaties  of 
the  grand  master,  they  suffered  Solyman  to  carry  on  his  opera- 
tions against  Rhodes  without  disturbance.  The  grand  mas- 
ter, after  incredible  efforts  of  courage,  of  patience,  and  of 
military  conduct,  during  a  siege  of  six  months  ;  after  sustain- 
ing many  assaults,  and  disputing  every  post  with  amazing  ob- 
stinacy, was  obliged  at  last  to  yield  to  numbers,  and  having 
obtained  an  honorable  capitulation  from  the  Sultan,  who  ad- 
mired and  respected  his  virtue,  he  surrendered  the  town, 
which  was  reduced  to  a  heap  of  rubbish,  and  destitute  of 
every  resource.  Charles  and  Francis,  ashamed  of  having 
occasioned  such  a  loss  to  Christendom  by  their  ambitious 
contests,  endeavored  to  throw  the  blame  of  it  on  each  other  ; 
while  all  Europe,  with  greater  justice,  imputed  it  equally  tu 
both.  The  Emperor,  by  way  of  reparation,  granted  the 
Knights  of  St.  John  the  small  island  of  Malta,  in  which  they 
fixed  their  residence,  retaining,  though  with  less  power  and 
splendor,  their  ancient  spirit  and  implacable  enmity  to  th<! 
infidels.-  —Robertson. 

(3)    On  Linden,  when  the  sun  was  low, 
All  bloodless  lay  the  untrodden  snow  ; 
And  dark  as  winter  was  the  flow 

Of  Iser  rolling  rapidly. 
But  Linden  saw  another  sight, 
When  the  drum  beat,  at  dead  of  night, 
Commanding  fires  of  death  to  light 

The  darkness  of  her  scenery. 


EXERCISES.  473 

By  torch  and  trumpet  fast  arrayed, 
Each  horseman  drew  his  battle-blade, 
And  furious  every  charger  neigh'd, 

To  join  the  dreadful  revelry. 
Then  shook  the  hills,  with  thunder  riven  j 
And,  louder  than  the  bolts  of  Heaven, 

Far  flash'd  the  red  artillery. 
But  redder  yet  that  light  shall  glow 
On  Linden's  hills  of  stained  snow, 
And  bloodier  yet  the  torrent  flow 

Of  Iser,  rolling  rapidly. 
'Tis  morn  ;  but  scarce  yon  level  sun 
Can  pierce  the  war-clouds,  rolling  dun, 
Where  furious  Frank  and  fiery  Hun 

Shout  in  their  sulph'rous  canopy. 
The  combat  deepens.     On,  ye  brave, 
Who  rush  to  glory  or  the  grave  ! 
Wave  Munich,  all  thy  banners  wave, 
And  charge  with  all  thy  chivalry  ! 
Few,  few  sLall  part,  where  many  meet ! 
The  snow  shall  be  their  winding  sheet, 
And  every  turf  beneath  their  feet 

Shall  be  a  soldier's  sepulchre. — Campbell. 

(4)  I  have  mentioned  that  I  saved  the  skins  of  all  the 
creatures  that  I  killed,  I  mean  the  four-footed  ones,  and  I  had 
them  hung  up  stretched  out  with  sticks  in  the  sun,  by  which 
means  some  of  them  were  so  .dry  and  hard  that  they  were  fit 
for  little,  but  others,  it  seems,  were  very  useful.  The  first 
thing  I  made  of  these  was  a  great  cap  for  my  head,  with  the 
hair  on  the  outside,  to  shoot  off  the  rain  ;  and  this  I  per- 
formed so  well  that,  after,  I  made  me  a  suit  of  clothes  wholly 
of  those  skins — that  is  to  say,  a  waistcoat,  and  breeches  open 
at  the  knees,  and  both  loose,  for  they  were  rather  wanting  to 
keep  me  cool  than  to  keep  me  warm.  I  must  not  omit  to 
acknowledge  that  they  were  wretchedly  made  ;  for  if  I  was  a 
oad  carpenter,  I  was  a  worse  tailor.  However,  they  were 
such  as  I  made  a  very  good  shift  with,  and  when  J  was  abroad 
12* 


274  THE   SCIENCE   OF  RHETORIC. 

if  it  happened  to  rain,  the  hair  of  the  waistcoat  and  cap  being 
outermost,  I  was  kept  very  dry. 

After  this,  I  spent  a  great  deal  of  time  and  pains  to  make 
ao  umbrella.  I  was  indeed  in  great  want  of  one,  and  had  a 
great  mind  to  make  one.  I  had  seen  them  made  in  the 
Brazils,  where  they  are  very  useful  in  the  great  heats  which 
are  there,  and  I  felt  the  heats  every  jot  as  great  here,  and 
greater  too,  being  nearer  the  equinox  ;  besides,  as  I  was 
obliged  to  be  much  abroad,  it  was  a  most  useful  thing  to  me, 
as  well  for  the  rains  as  the  heats.  I  took  a  world  of  pains  at 
it,  and  was  a  great  while  before  I  could  make  any  thing  likely 
to  hold  ;  nay,  after  I  thought  I  had  hit  the  way,  I  spoiled  twc 
or  three  before  I  made  one  to  my  mind.  But  at  last  I  made 
one  that  answered  indifferently  well  ;  the  main  difficulty  I 
found  was  to  make  it  let  down  ;  I  could  make  it  spread,  but 
if  it  did  not  let  down  too,  and  draw  in,  it  would  not  be  port- 
able for  me  any  way  but  just  over  my  head,  which  would  not 
do.  However,  at  last,  as  I  said,  I  made  one  to  answer.  I 
covered  it  with  skins,  the  hair  upwards,  so  that  it  cast  off  the 
rain  like  a  penthouse,  and  kept  off  the  sun  so  effectually  that 
I  could  walk  out  in  the  hottest  of  the  weather  with  greater 
advantage  than  I  could  before  in  the  coolest,  and  when  I  had 
no  need  of  it  I  could  close  it,  and  carry  it  under  my  arm. — 
Defoe^s  Robinson  Crusoe. 

3.  Criticise  the  following  Definitions,  and  sho\v 
wherein  they  are  defective. 

(1)  Life  is  vitality,  the  state  of  being  alive,  the  opposite 
of  death. 

(2)  A  triangle  is  half  a  parallelogram. 

(3)  A  triangle  is  a  figure  having  three  rectilinear  sides, 

(4)  A  fish  is  an  animal  that  lives  in  water. 

(5)  A  parallelogram  is  a  figure  of  four  parallel  and   equal 
sides. 

(6)  Capital  is  that  portion  of  the  produce  of  industry  which 
can  be  made  directly  available  to  support  1  iuman  existence  o? 
fttcil'tate  production. — M1  Gulloch. 


EXERCISES.  275 

(7)  Kent  is  what  is  paid  for  the  license  to  gal  her  the  pro- 
duce of  the  land. — Smith. 

(8)  A  figure,  in  Rhetoric,  is  some  deviation  from  the  plair 
and  ordinary  mode  of  expression,  with  a  view  of  making  thi 
meaning  more  effective. — Hart. 

(9)  A  fallacy  is  any  unsound  mode  of  reasoning  which 
appears  to  demand  our  conviction,  and  to  be  decisive  of  the 
question  in  hand,  when  in  fairness  it  is  not. —  Whatdy. 

(10)  Seethe  definitions  of  Poetry  given  in  the  Introduction. 

4.   Criticise  the  following  examples  of  Division,  and 
point  out  the  defects. 

(1)  Government  is   either    monarchical,    democratic,   or 
aristocratic. 

(2)  All  objects  are  animals,  vegetables,  or  lifeless  matter 

(3)  Europeans  are  white,,  foreign-born,  or  descendants  o. 
foreigners. 

(4)  All  men  are  either  rational  or  unreasonable. 

(5)  Language  is  to  be  studied  in  three  sciences  :  Gram- 
mar, Logic,  and  Rhetoric. 

(6)  Plane  figures  are  triangles,  squares,  polygons,  circles 
or  ellipses. 

(7)  Sentences,  considered  rhetorically,  are  divided   into 
Periodic,  Loose,  Balanced,  Short,  and  Long. — Hart. 

(8)  Practical  convenience  is  served  by  a  reference  to  the 
different  occasions  of  Oratory  ;  each  giving  rise  to  a  distinct 
method  and  constituting  a  separate  professional  study. 

I.  The  Oratory  of  the  Law  Courts. 

II.  Political  Oratory. 

III.  Pulpit  Oratory. 

IV.  Moral  Suasion. — Bain. 

(9)  We  can  know  only   (a)  Substance,   (5)  Quantity,   (c) 
Qaality,  (d)  Relation,  (e)  Action,  (/)  Passion,  (g)  the  Where, 
(h)  the  When,  (i)  Position,  (j)  Possession. — Aristotle. 

(10)  Written  discourse,  in  prose,  may  be  divided,  accord- 
ing to  the  subject  itself  and  its  just  treatment,  into  Letters 
History,  Biography,  Essays,  and  Prose  Fiction. — 


£76  THE  SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

5.  Criticise  the  following  specimens  of  Exposition 

through  concomitant  notions. 

(1)  To  the  question  what  the  thing  we  speak  of  is,  or  what 
this  facetiousness  doth  impart  ?  I  might  reply  as  Democritua 
d  id  to  him  that  asked  the  definition  of  a  man,  'Tis  that  which 
we  all  see  and  know  ;  any  one  better  apprehends  what  it  is 
by  acquaintance  than  I  can  inform  him  by  description.  It  is 
indeed  a  thing  so  versatile  and  multiform,  appearing  in  so 
many  shapes,  so  many  postures,  so  many  garbs,  so  variously 
apprehended  by  several  eyes  and  judgments,  that  it  seemeth 
no  less  hard  to  settle  a  clear  and  certain  notion  thereof,  than 
to  make  a  portrait  of  Proteus,  or  to  define  the  figure  of  a 
fleeting  air.  Sometimes  it  lieth  in  pat  allusion  to  a  known 
story,  or  in  a  seasonable  application  of  a  trivial  saying,  or  in 
forging  an  apposite  tale  :  sometimes  it  playeth  in  words  and 
phrases,  taking  advantage  from  the  ambiguity  of  their  sense, 
or  the  iffinity  of  their  sound  :  sometimes  it  is  wrapped  in  a 
dress  of  humorous  expression  :  sometimes  it  lurketh  under  an 
odd  similitude  :  sometimes  it  is  lodged  in  a  sly  question,  in  a 
smart  answer,  in  a  quirkish  reason,  in  a  shrewd  imitation,  in 
cunningly  diverting,  or  cleverly  retorting  an  objection  :  some- 
times it  is  couched  in  a  bold  scheme  of  speech,  in  a  tart  irony, 
.n  a  lusty  hyperbole,  in  a  startling  metaphor,  in  a  plausible 
reconciling  of  contradictions,  or  in  acute  nonsense  :  some- 
times a  scenical  representation  of  persons  or  things,  a  coun- 
terfeit speech,  a  inimical  look  or  gesture  passeth  for  it  :  some- 
times an  affected  simplicity,  sometimes  a  presumptuous  blunt- 
ness,  giveth  it  being  :  sometimes  it  riseth  from  a  lucky  hit- 
ting upon  what  is  strange  :  sometimes  from  a  crafty  wresting 
obvious  matter  to  the  purpose  :  often  it  consisteth  in  one 
know?  not  what,  and  springeth  up  one  can  hardly  tell  how. 
Its  ways  are  unaccountable  and  inexplicable,  being  answer 
able  to  the  numberless  rovings  of  fancy  and  windings  of 
language.  It  is,  in  short,  a  manner  ctf  speaking  out  of  tht3 
simple  and  plain  way  (such  as  reason  teacheth  and  provctli 
things  by),  which,  by  a  pretty  surprising  uncoutlmess  ir 


EXERCISES.  277 

Conceit  or  expression,  doth  affect  and  amuse  the  fancy,  stir- 
ring in  it  seme  wonder,  and  breeding  some  delight  Hereto. 
—Barrow. 

(2)  I  call  it  atheism  by  establishment,  when  any  state,  as 
such,  shall  not  acknowledge  the  existence  of  God  as  a  moral 
governor  of  the  world  ;  when  it  shall  abolish  the  Christian 
religion  by  a  regular  decree  ;  when  it  shall  persecute  with  a 
cold,  unrelenting,  steady  cruelty,  by  every  mode  of  confisca- 
tion, imprisonment,  exile,  and  death,  all  its  ministers  ;  when 
it  shall  generally  shut  up  or  pull  down  churches  ;  when  in 
the  place  of  that  religion  of  social  benevolence,  and  of  indi- 
vidual self-denial,  in  mockery  of  all  religion,  they  institute 
impious,  blasphemous,  indecent,  theatric  rules,  in  honor  of 
their  vitiated,  perverted  reason,  and  erect  altars  to  the  per- 
sonification of  their  own  corrupted  and  bloody  republic  ; 
when  schools  and  seminaries  are  founded  at  the  public  ex- 
pense to  poison  mankind,  from  generation  to  generation,  with 
the  horrible  maxims  of  this  impiety  ;  when  wearied  out  with 
incessant  martyrdom  and  the  cries  of  a  people  hungering  and 
thirsting  for  religion,  they  permit  it  as  a  tolerated  evil — I  cal. 
this  atheism  by  establishment. — Burke. 

6.  Classify  and  criticise  the  following  Arguments. 

(1)  We  differ  from  the  leaf  only  in  this  circumstance,  that 
it  would  require  the  operation  of  greater  elements  to  destroy 
us.  But  these  elements  exist.  The  fire  which  rages  within 
may  lift  its  devouring  energy  to  the  surface  of  our  planet, 
and  transform  it  into  one  wide  and  wasting  volcano.  The 
sudden  formation  of  elastic  matter  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth 
— and  it  lies  within  the  agency  of  known  substances  to  ac- 
complish this — may  explode  it  into  fragments.  The  exhala- 
tion of  noxious  air  from  below  may  impart  virulence  to  the 
»ir  that  is  around  us  ;  it  may  affect  the  delicate  proportion  oi 
its  ingredients  ;  and  the  whole  of  animated  nature  may  wither 
and  die  under  the  malignity  of  a  tainted  atmosphere.  A 
blazing  comet  may  cross  this  fated  planet  in  its  orbit,  and 
realize  all  the  terrors  which  superstition  has  conceived  of  it 


278  THE   SCIENCE   OF   KHLTORIC. 

We  cannot  anticipate  with  precision  the  consequences  of  an 
event  which  every  astronomer  must  know  to  lie  within  the 
limits  of  chance  and  probability.  It  may  hurry  our  globe 
towards  the  sun,  or  drag  it  to  the  outer  regions  of  the 
planetary  system,  or  give  it  a  new  axis  of  revolution. 
-  Chalmers. 

(2)  If  a  father,  who,  when  he  provides  a  home  for  his 
children,  fits  it  up  with  all  the  necessities  and  all  the  luxuries 
which  they  can  possibly  need,  gives  indisputable  evidence  of 
intelligence  and  love,  then  are  those  attributes  to  be  ascribed 
to  Him  who  fitted  up  this  world  to  be  the  home  of  his  crea- 
tures. This  is  seen,  as  already  intimated,  in  the  constitution 
of  the  atmosphere,  in  the  distribution  of  light  and  heat,  of 
electricity  and  magnetism,  in  the  establishment  of  those  laws 
which  secure  the  regular  succession  of  the  seasons,  in  the 
preparation  of  soil  by  the  disintegration  of  rocks,  the  falling 
of  rain,  the  deposition  of  dew  which  falls  gently  with  life- 
giving  power  on  the  thirsty  earth  ;  in  innumerable  other 
provisions  and  dispositions  of  the  forces  of  nature  without 
which  neither  vegetable  nor  animal  life  could  be  sustained 
There  are  many  special  provisions  of  this  kind  which  fill  the 
mind  with  gratitude  and  wonder.  It  is  a  general  law  that 
Dodies  contract  as  they  become  colder.  Water,  however, 
when  it  freezes  expands  and  becomes  lighter.  If  it  were  not 
!or  this  benevolent  exception  to  the  general  law,  not  only 
would  the  inhabitants  of  all  our  rivers  perish,  but  the 
greater  part  of  the  temperate  zone  would  be  uninhabit- 
able.— Hodge. 

(3)  It  has  been  frequently  remarked,  that  the  period  of 
the  highest  literary  glory  of  civilized  nations  is  generally 
found  to  follow  close  on  some  remarkable  or  portentous 
achievements  in  commerce  of  in  war.  Among  the  ancient 
Greeks,  the  combination  of  great  literary  names  in  the  age  of 
Pericles  follows  the  defeat  of  the  Persians.  The  Roman  age 
of  Augustus,  when  that  mighty  nation  was  resting  from  her 
conquests,  produced  the  same  galaxy  of  genius.  In  the  same 
way,  the  famous  literary  age  of  Louis  XIV.  was  certainlj 


EXERCISES.  S7S 

prepared,  if  not  produced,  by  the  religions  wars  of  the  Re- 
formation, and  after  the  national  enthusiasm  had  bivn  e\< -iter. 
by  the  success  of  the  French  arms  in  Germany  and  Flanders, 
Inour  own  case,  a  gigantic  revolution  had  been  accomplished. 
The  intellect  of  England  had  been  engaged  in  a  violent 
struggle  for  religious  liberty,  and  the  nation  now  started  on 
its  race  of  poetical  immortality. — Graham. 

(4)  Julian,  the  emperor,  united  intelligence,  learning,  and 
power,  with  a  persecuting  zeal,  in  a  resolute  effort  to  root 
out  Christianity.     In   the   year   3G1,   he   composed  a  work 
against  its  claims.     We  may  be  well  assured  that  if  any  thing 
could  have  been  said  against  the  authenticity  of  its  books,  he 
would  have  used  it.     His  work  is  not  extant  ;  but  from  long 
extracts,  found  in  the  answer  by  Cyril,  a  few  years  after,  as 
well  as  from  the  statements  of  his  opinions  and  arguments 
by  this  writer,  it  is  unquestionable  that  Julian  bore  witness  to 
the  authenticity  <  <f  the  four  Gospels  and  of  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles.     He  concedes,  and  argues  from  their  early  date, 
quotes  them  by  name  as  the  genuine  works  of  their  reputed 
authors  ;  proceeds  upon  the  supposition,  as  a  thing  undeni- 
able, that  they  were  the  only  historical  books  which  Chris- 
tians received  as  canonical — the  only  authentic  narratives  of 
Christ  and  his  Apostles,  and  of  the  doctrine  they  delivered- 
lie  has  also  quoted,  or  plainly  referred  to,  the  Epistles  to  the 
Romans,  Corinthians,  and  Galatians,  and  nowhere  insinuates 
that  the  authenticity  of  any  portion  of  the  New  Testament 
could  reasonably  be  questioned. — M'llvaine. 

(5)  There  is  nothing  more  pernicious  to  the  character  than 
to  listen  to  flattery.     It  increases  our  vanity,  gives  us  a  false 
idea  of  ourselves,  and  becomes  an  insurmountable  barrier  to 
all  improvement.     For  it  is  obviously  impossible  for  any  one 
who  believes  all  the  fulsome  adulation  poured  into  his  ear,  to 
make  any  progress  either  in  knowledge  or  virtue  ;  and  he  ii 
Mire  at  length  to  fall  a  victim  to  one  who  will  profit  by  hia 
folly.     Had   not  the  crow  lent  a  willing  ear  to  the  artful  in- 
sinuations of  the  fox,  she  would  not  have  had  to  moum 
when  too  late,  the  consequences  of  her  silly  vanity. 


$80  THE   SCIENCE   OF   KHETOKIC. 

7.  In   the  following  exercises  on   the   Barbarism 
these  questions  should  be  asked  : 

(1)  What  is  the  ORIGIN  of  this  word  ? 

(2)  If  foreign,  has  it  been  NATURALIZED  ? 
(3>  If  old,  is  it  OBSOLETE  ? 

(4)  Is  it  formed  according  to  the  ANALOGY  of  the  language  t 

(5)  Is  it  either  TECHNICAL  or  LOCAL  ? 

(6)  What  AUTHORITY  can  be  quoted  for  it  ? 

(1)  The  missionary  work  held  Lota  by  a  double  chain  ;  it 
was  a  birthright  and  a  vocation — that  is,  as  far  as  other  peo- 
ple can  wcate  for  a  girl. — Putnam'1  s  Magazine. 

(2)  The  young  but  inactive  half  Mexican,  who  smiled  at 
Caleb's  infrequent  jokes  and  listened  a  good  deal  when  Calet 
orated  and  the  boss  of  the  schooner  slept. — Ovwland  Monthly. 

(3)  As  he  saith,  our  whole  life  is  a  glucupicron,  a  bittei 
sweet  passion,  honer  and  gall  mixed  together. — Burton. 

(4)  I  was  chez  moi,  inhaling  the  odeur  musquee  of  my  scented 
"boudoir,  when  the  Prince  de  Z.  entered.     He  found  me  in  my 
demi-toilette,  blastfe  sur  tout,  and  pensively  engaged  in  solitary 
conjugation  of  the  verb  s'ennuyer  ;  and  though  he  had  never 
been  one  of  my  habitufa,  or  by  any  means  des  notres,  I  was  not 
disinclined,  at  this  moment  of  ddlassement  to  glide  with  him 
into  the   crocchio  ristretto  of   familiar   chat. — New  Monthly 
Magazine. 

(5)  When  we  came  to  settle  for  the  wine. — Howells. 

(6)  The  invention  described  in  yesterday's  "Times,"  and 
displayed  on  Saturday  in  Newark,  by  which  a  person  who 
may  happen  to  be  buried  alive,   is  enabled  to  resurrect  him- 
self from  the  grave,  may  lead  some  people  to  fancy  there  is 
actual  danger  of  being  buried  alive. — New  York  Times. 

(7)  It  seems  that  this  State,  so  quickly  enthmed  by  the 
generous  loyal  cause  of  emancipation,   has  grown  weary  of 
virtuous  effort,  and  again  stands  still. — Baltimore  American. 

(8)  The  trials  of  the  witches  awaken,  by  turns,  pity,  in- 
dignation, disgust,  and  dread — dread  at  the  thought  cf  what 


EXERCISES.  28) 

the  human  mind  can  be  brought  to  believe  not  only  prob 
able,  but  proven.  —  Imeell. 

(9)  A  fardel  of  never   ending   misery   and   suspense.- 


(10)  Mine  ancient  wound  is  hardly  whole, 

And  lets  me  from  the  saddle.  —  Tennyson. 

&.  In  the  following  exercises  on  Homonyms,  the 
student  should  give  all  the  possible  meanings  of  the 
words  given.  As  language  was  spoken  before  it  was 
written,  a  word  is  a  certain  sound  or  combination  of 
sounds  without  regard  to  the  spelling. 

(1)  Round,  (2)  Light,  (3)  Church,  (4)  Government,  (5) 
Truth,  (6)  Value,  (7)  Same,  (8)  Why,  (9)  Cause,  (10)  Reason, 

(11)  Authority,  (12)  Faith,  (13)  Time,  (14)  Person,  (15)  Cer- 
tain, (16)  One,   (17)  Experience,  (18)  Necessity,   (19)  Possi- 
bility, (20)  Law. 

9.  In  the  following  groups  of  words,  point  out  the 
distinctions  of  meaning,  giving  especial  attention  to 
the  differential  part  of  words  having  the  same  radical 

(1)  Corporal,  corporeal.  (2)  Subtle,  subtile.  (3)  Observ 
ance,  observation.  (4)  Construe,  construct.  (5)  Prediction, 
predication.  (6)  Learned,  learned.  (7)  Stationary,  station- 
ery. (8)  Inconsistent,  incongruous,  incoherent.  (9)  Sym- 
pathy, compassion,  commiseration,  condolence.  (10)  Thwart, 
oppose,  resist,  withstand.  (11)  Oculist,  optician,  eye-doctor. 

(12)  Custom,  habit,  usage.     (13)  Discover,  invent.     (14)  By, 
with.     (15)   Sufficient,    enough.      (16)   Thoughtless,    remiss, 
careless,   negligent.      (17)  Tenet,   position,   doctrine,   creed, 
dogma.     (18)  Social,   sociable.     (19)  Opinion,   belief,   sciiti 
ment,  notion,  idea.     (20)  Weak,  feeble,  infirm. 

10.  The  following  specimens  of  Tautology  may  be 
corrected. 

(1)  Particularly  as  to  the  affairs  of  this  world,  integrity 
hath  many  advantages  over  all  the  fine  and  artificial  ways  A 


282  THE   SCTEKCE   OF 

dissimulation  and  deceit-;  it  is  much  the  plainer  and  easu-r, 
much  fhe  safer  and  more  secure  way  of  dealing  with  the 
world  ;  it  has  less  of  trouble  and  difficulty,  of  entanglement 
«nd  perplexity,  of  danger  and  hazard  in  it.  The  arts  of  de- 
ieit  and  cunning  do  continually  grow  weaker,  and  less 
effectual  and  serviceable  to  them  that  use  them. — Tillotson. 

(2)  It  is  impossible  for  us  to  behold  the  divine  works  with 
coldness  or  indifference,  or  to  survey  so  many  beauties  with- 
out a  secret  satisfaction  and  complacency. — Addison. 

(3)  In  the  Attic  commonwealth,  it  was  the  privilege  and 
birthright  of  every  citizen  and  poet,  to  rail  aloud  and  in  pub 
lie.—  Swift. 

(4)  He  [Pryor]  had  often  infused  into  it  [his  style]  much 
knowledge  and  much  thought  ;  he  had  often  polished  it  into 
elegance,    often  dignified   it  into  splendor,    and   sometimes 
heightened  it  to  sublimity  ;   and  did  not   discover  that  it 
wanted    the   power  of    engaging    attention,    and    alluring 
curiosity.  — Johnson. 

(5)  The  very  first  discovery  of  it;  [beauty]  strikes  the  mind 
with  inward  joy,  and  spreads  delight  through  all  its  faculties. 
— Addison. 

(6)  How  many  are  there  by  whom  these  tidings  of  good 
news  were  never  heard. — Bolingbroke. 

(7)  Never  did  Atticus  succeed  better  in  gaming  the  uni- 
versal love  and  esteem  of  all  men. — Spectator. 

(8)  I  could  heartily  wish  there  was  the  same  application 
and  endeavors  to  cultivate  and  improve  our  church  music  as 
have  been  lately  bestowed  on  that  of  the  stage. — Addiso.i. 

11.  Correct  the  Redundancies  in  the  following. 

(1)  Magnanimity  and  greatness  of  mind. — Ferguson. 

(2)  The  mysteries  of  the  arcana  of  alchemy. — I? Israeli. 

(3)  The  vice  of  covetousness  is  what  enters  deeper  into  the 
BOU!  than  any  other.  —  Guardian. 

(4)  There  is  such  a  thing  as  a  man  endeavoring  to  persuade 
himself  and  endeavoring  to  persuade  others,  that   he  knows 
ibout  things,  when  he  docs  not  know  more  Hum  the  outside 


EXEKCISfcS.  283 

ikins  of  them  ;  and  he  goes  flourishing  about  with  them.— 

Carlyle. 

(5)  He  is  always  delightfully  fresh,  because  lie  sets  before 
us  the  world  as  it  honestly  appeared  to  Geoffry  Chaucer,  and 
not  a  world  as  it  seemed  proper  to  certain  persons  that  it 
ought  to  appear. — Lowett. 

(6)  Aristotle's  style,  which  is  frequently  so  elliptical  as  to 
be  dry  and  obscure,  is  yet  often,  at  the  very  same  time,  un- 
necessarily diffuse. —  Whately. 

(7)  As  has  been  formerly  remarked,  a  well-chosen  epithet 
may  often  suggest,  and  therefore  supply  the  place  of  an  entire 
argument. —  Whately. 

12.  Avoid  the  Circumlocution  in  the  following. 

(1)  Pope  professed  to  have  learned  his  poetry  from  Dry- 
den,    whom,    whenever   an   opportunity  was  presented,    he 
praised  through  the  whole  period  of  his  existence  with  un- 
varied liberality  ;  and  perhaps  his  character  may  receive  some 
illustration,  if  a  comparison  be  instituted  between  him  and 
the  man  whose  pupil  he  was. — Johnson. 

(2)  If  one  were  called  on  to  fix  the  period  in  the  history 
sf  the  world  during  which  the  condition  of  the  human  race 
was  most  happy  and  prosperous,  one  would,  without  hesita- 
tion, name  that  which  elapsed  from  the  death  of  Domitian 
to  the  succession  of  Commodus. — Gibbon. 

13.  Criticise   the   Arrangement  of    words  in  the 
following. 

(1)  All  that  is  favored  by  good  use  is  not  proper  to  be 
etained. — Lindley  Murray. 

(2;  I  allude  to  the  article  "  Blind,"  in  the  Encyclopedia 
Britannica,  published  at  Edinburgh  in  the  year  1783,  which 
was  written  by  him. — Mackenzie. 

(3)  And  these  are  inserted  by  the  compositors  without  the 
slightest  compunction. — Alford. 

(4)  \  man  does  not  lose  his  mother  now  in  the  papers.— 
Alford. 


284  THE   SCIENCE   OF  RHETORIC. 

(5)  I  only  bring  forward  some  things. — Alford. 

(6)  I  remember  when  the  French  band  of  the  "  Guides  * 
were  in  this  country,  reading  in  the  " Illustrated  News."— 
Alford. 

(7)  I  have  noticed  the  word  "  party  "  used  for  an  indi 
vidual  occurring  in  Shakespeare. — Alford. 

(8)  Though  some  of  the  European  rulers  may  be  females, 
when  spoken  of  altogether,  they  may  be  correctly  classified 
under  the  denomination  "  Kings." — Alford. 

(9)  Had  I  but  served  my  God,  with  half  the  zeal 
I  served  my  king,  he  would  not  in  mine  age 

Have  left  me  naked  to  mine  enemies. — Shakespeare. 

(10)  This  art  can  only  be  obtained  by  the  habitual  study 
of  his  sensations. — D*  Israeli. 

(11)  Errors  are  sometimes  committed  by  the  most  dis- 
tinguished writers,  with  respect  to  the  use  of  '  *  *  shall  "  and 
"will." — Butler's  Grammar. 

(12)  Thus  I  have  fairly  given  you,  sir,  my  own  opinion, 
as  well  as  that  of  a  great  majority  of  both  houses  here,  relat- 
ing to  this  weighty  affair  ;  upon  which  I  am  confident  you 
may  securely  reckon. — Swift. 

(13)  These  forms  of  conversation  by  degrees  multiplied 
and  grew  troublesome. — Spectator. 

14.  In  the  following  exercises,  the  sentences  should 
be  reconstructed,  and,  if  necessary,  subdivided,  so  as 
to  avoid  long  Parenthetical  Expressions. 

(1)  It  seems  to  me,  that,  in  order  to  maintain  the  system 
of  the  world,  at  a  certain  point,  far  below  that  of  ideal  per 
fection,  (for  we  are  made  capable  of  conceiving  what  we  art 
incapable  of  attaining)  but,  however,  sufficient,  upon  the 
whole,  to  constitute  a  state  easy  and  happy,  or  at  the  worst, 
tolerable  ;  I  say,  it  seems  to  me,  that  the  Author  of  Nature 
has  thought  fit  to  mingle,  from  time  to  time,  among  the  so- 
cieties of  men,  a  few,  and  but  a  few,  of  those  on  whom  he  is 
graciously  pleased  to  bestow  a  larger  portion  of  the  ethere&i 


EXERCISES.  285 

spirit,  than  is  given,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  his  govern- 
ment, to  the  sons  of  men. — Bolingbroke. 

(2)  He  (Sir  W.  Grant)  possessed  the  first  great  quality  ol 
dispatching  business  (the  real,   not  the  affected  dispatch  oi 
Lord  Bacon),  the  power  of  steadily  fixing  his  attention  upon 
the  matter  before  him. — Brougham. 

(3)  The  famous  poisoned  valley  of  Java  (which,  as  Mr. 
Loudon,  a  recent  traveler  in  that  region,  informs  us,  is  twenty 
miles  in  length  and  is  filled  with  skeletons  of  men  and  birds  ; 
and  into  which  it  is  said  that  the  neighboring  tribes  are  in  the 
habit  of  driving  criminals,  as  a  convenient  mode  of  executing 
capital  punishment)  has  proved  to  be  the  crater  of  an  extinct 
volcano. 

(4)  This  would  be  the  proper  place  for  introducing  (if  I 
iid  not  hesitate  to  introduce  in  any  connection  with  merely 
human  instances)  the  example  of  him  who  said,  etc. — John 
Foster. 

15.  In  the  following  exercises  such  words  as  are 
improperly  omitted,  should  be  supplied. 

(1)  Arbitrary  power  I  look  upon  as  a  greater  evil  than 
anarchy  itself,  as  much  as  a  savage  is  a  happier  state  of  life 
than  a  galley-slave. 

(2)  He  is  inspired  with  a  true  sense  of  that  function,  when 
chosen  from  a  regard  to  the  interests  of  piety  or  virtue. — 
Guardian. 

(3)  I  beg  of  you  never  let  the  glory  of  our  nation,  who 
made  France  tremble,  and  yet  has  the  gentleness  to  be  unable 
to  bear  opposition  from  the  meanest  of  his  own  countrymen, 
be  calumniated  in  so  impudent  a  manner,   as  in  the  insinua- 
tion that  he  affected  a  perpetual  dictatorship. — Stede. 

(4)  He  meets  with  a  secret  refreshment  in  a  description, 
ind  often  feels  a  greater  satisfaction  in  the  prospect  of  fields 
and  meadows  than  another  does  in  the  possession. — Addisou. 

(5)  And  while  he  hesitated,  the  lady  asked  him  was  he 
come  to  finish  the  bust. —  Charles  Reade. 


286  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

(6)  Ere  he  thoroughly,  recovered  the   shock  a  wild  cr} 
arose. — Charles  Reade. 

(7)  Had  Darnley  proved  the  useful  Catholic  which  the 
Queen  intended  him  to  be,  they  would  have  sent  him  to  his 
account  with  as  small  compunction  as  Jael  sent  the  Canaauite 
captain,  or  they  would  have  blessed  the  Jtrni  that  did  it  with 
is  much  eloquence  as  Deborah. — Fronde. 

(8)  Hence  the  reason  is  perspicuous  why  no  French  plays 
whi.  11  translated  have,  or  ever  can,  succeed  on  the  English 
stage.  — Dry  den. 

(9)  The  following  facts  may  or  have  been   adduced  as 
reasons  on  the  other  side. — Latham. 

16.  So  divide  or  reconstruct  the  sentences  in  the 
following  exercises  as  to  secure  Unity  of  Idea.  Point 
out  in  what  respect  Unity  is  violated. 

(1)  He  [Prior]  is  supposed  to  have  fallen  by  his  father's 
death  into  the  hands  of  his  uncle,   a  vintner  near  Charing 
Cross,  who  sent  him  for  some  time  to  Dr.  Busby  at  West- 
minster,  but  not  intending  to  give  any  education  beyond 
that  of  the  school,  took  him  when  lie  was  well  advanced  in 
literature  to  his  own  house,  where  the  Earl  of  Dorset,  cele- 
orated  for  patronage  of  genius,  found  him  by  chance,  as  Bur- 
net  relates,  reading  Horace,  and  was  so  well  pleased  with  his 
proficiency,  that  he  undertook  the  care  and  cost  of  his  aca- 
demical education. — Johnson. 

(2)  In  this  uneasy  state,  both  of  his  public  and  private  life, 
Cicero  was  oppressed  by  a  new  and  cruel  affliction,  the  death 
of  his  beloved  daughter  Tullia  ;  which  happened  soon  after 
her  divorce  from  Dolabella  ;  whose  manners  and  humors  were 
entirely  disagreeable  to  her. — Middleton. 

(3)  It  [the  sun]  breaks  the  icy  fetters  of  the  main,  where 
vast  sea-monsters  pierce  through  floating  islands,  with  arms 
which  can  withstand  the  crystal  rock  ;  whilst  others,  who  of 
themselves  seem  great  as  islands,  are  by  their  bulk  alone  armed 
.igainst  all  but  man  ;  whose  superiority  over  creatures  of  such 
mi pe iido us  size  and  force,  should  make  him  mindful  of  his 


EXERCISES.  287 

privilege  of  reason,  and  force  him  humbly  to  adore  the  great 
composer  of  these  wondrous  frames,  and  the  author  of  hi* 
->wn  superior  wisdom. — Shaftesbury. 

(4)  To  this  succeeded  the  licentiousness  which  entcied 
with  the  restoration,  and  from  infecting  our  religion   and 
morals,  fell  to  corrupt  our  language  ;  which  last  was  not  like 
to  be  much  improved  by  those  who  at  that  time  made  up  the 
court  of  King  Charles  II.  ;  either  such  who  had  followed  him 
in  his  banishment,  or  who  had  been  altogether  conversant  in 
the  dialect  of  those  fanatic  times  ;  or  young  men  who  had 
been  educated  in  the  same  company  :  so  that  the  court  which 
used  to  be  the  standard  of  propriety  and  correctness  of  speech 
was  then,  and  I  think  hath  ever  since  continued,  the  worst 
school  in  England  for  that  accomplishment,  and  so  will  re- 
main till  better  care  be  taken  in  the  education  of  our  young 
nobility,  that  they  may  set  out  into  the  world  with  some 
foundation  of  literature,  in  order  to  qualify  them  for  patterns 
of  politeness. — Swift. 

(5)  The  usual  acceptation  takes  profit  and  pleasure  for  two 
different  things,  and  not  only  calls  the  followers  or  votaries 
of  them  by  the  several  names  of  busy  and  idle  men,  but  dis- 
tinguishes the  faculties  of  the  mind,  that  are  conversant  about 
them  ;  calling  the  operation  of  the  first,  wisdom,  and  of  the 
other  wit — which  is  a  Saxon  word,  used  to  express  what  the 
Spaniards  and  Italians  call  ingenio,   and  the  French,  esprit, 
both  from  the  Latin  ;  though  I  think  wit  more  particularly 
signifies  that  of  poetry,  as  may  occur  in  remarks  on  the  Runic 
language. — Sir  W.  Temple. 

(6)  After  a  short  time  he  came  to  himself  ;  and  the  next 
day  they  put  him  on  board  his  ship,  which  conveyed  him  first 
to  Corinth,  and  thence  to  the  island  of  Egina. — Hook,. 

(7)  The  Britons,  daily  harassed  by  cruel  inroads  from  the 
Picts,  were  forced  to  call  in  the  Saxons  for  their  defence,  who 
consequently  reduced  the  greatest  part  of  the  island  to  their 
power,  drove  the  Britons  into  the  most  remote  and  mountain 
ous  parts,  and  the  rest  of  the  country,  in  customs,  religion. 
»ad  language,  became  wholly  Saxon. — Swift. 


288  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

17.  In  the  following  exercises,  point  out  which  sen 
tences  are  Periodic,  which  Loose,  and  which  Balanced. 
If  another  form  would  be  better  suited  to  the  idea,  sc 
modify  the  structure  as  to  make  the  form  and  meaning 
correspond. 

(1)  Gathering  up  lately  a  portion  of  what  I  had  written 
lor  publication,  I  have  given  it  as  careful  a  revision  as  m} 
leisure  would  allow,  have  indeed  in  many  parts  rewritten  it, 
seeking  to  profit  by  the  results  of  the  latest  criticism,  as  fai 
as  I  have  been  able  to  acquaint  myself  with  them. — Trend. 
1 2)  He  was  grave,  trifling,  zealous  and  untrue. 
(3)     Deep  in  the  shady  sadness  of  a  vale 

Far  sunken  from  the  healthy  breath  of  morn, 

Far  from, the  fiery  noon  and  eve's  one  star 

Sat  gray-haired  Saturn,  quiet  as  a  stone. — KeatB. 

4)     Of  man's  first  disobedience,  and  the  fruit 
Of  that  forbidden  tree,  whose  mortal  touch 
Brought  death  into  the  world,  and  all  our  woe, 
With  loss  of  Eden,  till  one  greater  Man 
Restore  us,  and  regain  the  blissful  seat, 
Sing  heavenly  Muse,  that  on  the  secret  top 
Of  Oreb,  or  of  Sinai,  didst  inspire 
That  shepherd,  who  first  taught  the  chosen  seed, 
In  the  beginning  how  the  heaven  and  earth 
Rose  out  of  chaos  :  or,  if  Sion  hill 
Delight  thee  more,  and  Siloa's  brook  that  flowed 
Fast  by  the  oracle  of  God,  I  thence 
Invoke  thy  aid  to  my  adventurous  song, 
That  with  no  middle  flight  intends  to  soar 
Above  the  Aonian  mount,  while  it  pursues 
Things  unattempted  yet  in  prose  or  rhyme. — Milton 

18.  In   the    following  exercises    on   Figures,    th$ 
student  should  ask  these  questions. 

(1)  On  what  PRINCIPLE  is  this  figure  founded  ? 
(8)  What  is  its  specific 


EXERCISES.  289 

(8)    Is  it  CORRECT  ? 

(4)  If  correct,  wherein  lies  its  VALUE  ? 

(5)  If  incorrect,  wherein  lies  its  DEFECT  ? 

(6)  What  OTHER  FIGURE  would  express  the  same  idea  ? 

(1)  To  Adam,  Paradise  was  a  home  ;  to  the  good  among 
bia  descendants,  Home  is  a  paradise. — Hare. 

(2)  And  pity,  like  a  naked  new-born  babe, 
Striding  the  blast,  as  heaven's  Cherubim  horsed 
Upon  the  sightless  couriers  of  the  air, 

Shall  blow  the  horrid  deed  in  every  eye, 

That  tears  shall  drown  the  wind. — Shakespeare. 

(3)  Fancy  sports  an  airy  wing,  like  a  meteor  on  the  bosom 
of  a  summer  cloud. — Burke. 

(4)  We  feel  the  strength  of  mind  through  the  beauty  of 
the  style  ;  we  discern  the  man  in  the  author,  the  nation  in  the 
man,  and  the  universe  at  the  feet  of  the  nation.— De  Stall. 

(5)  An  elm  is 

A  forest  waving  on  a  single  tree. — Holmes. 

(6)  Greece  cries  to  us  by  the  convulsed  lips  of  her  poisoned 
dying  Demosthenes  ;  and  Rome  pleads  with  us  in  the  mute 
persuasion  of  her  mangled  Tully. — Edward  Everett. 

(7)  Even  then,  before  this  splendid  orb  was  entirely  set, 
and  while  the  western  horizon  was  in  a  blaze  with  his  de- 
scending glory,  on  the  opposite  quarter  of  the  heavens  arose 
another   luminary,    and  for  his   hour  became  lord  of  the 
ascendant.  — Burke. 

(8)  These  institutions  attract  to  themselves  the  mental 
strength  of  the  land,  forming  a  focus  from  which  radiates, 
whether  in  Theology,   Science,   Literature  or  Art,  the  new 
world  of  thought,  which  finds  its  way  to  the  remotest  regions, 
often  filtered  and  unacknowledged. — Matthew  Arnold. 

(9)  There  Honor  comes,  a  pilgrim  gray, 

To  deck  the  turf  that  wraps  their  clay  ; 

And  Freedom  shall  a  while  repair 

To  dwell  a  weeping  hermit  there.— Cotttm. 

13 


290  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

(10)    Belinda  smiled,  a-nd  all  the  world  was  gay. — Pope. 

^11)  The  poems  of  Byron  are  as  the  scenes  of  a  suminci 
evening,  where  all  is  tender,  and  grand,  and  beautiful  ;  but 
the  damps  of  disease  descend  with  the  dews  of  heaven,  and 
the  pestilent  vipors  of  night  are  breathed  in  with  the  fra 
grance  and  the  balm,  and  the  delicate  and  the  fair  are  the 
surest  victims  of  the  exposure. — FrisMe. 

(12)  This  is  the  history  of  the  world,  and  all  that  is  in  it. 
H  passes  while  we  look  at  it.     Like  as  when  you  watcli  the 
melting  tints  of  the  evening  sky — purple,  crimson,  gorgeous 
gold,  a  few  pulsations  of  quivering  light,  and  it  is  all  gone. 
— Robertson. 

(13)  Of  the  nineteen  tyrants  who  started  up  under  the 
reign  of  Gallienus,  there  was  not  one  who  enjoyed  a  life  of 
peace  or  a  natural  death. — Gibbon. 

(14)  A  sail !  a  sail !  a  promised  prize  to  hope, 
Her  nation's  flag — how  speaks  the  telescope  ? 
No  prize,  alas  !  but  yet  a  welcome  sail. — Byron. 

(15)  Better  fifty  years  of  Europe  than  a  cycle  of  Cathay.-* 
Tennyson. 

(16)  Homer    calls   words   winged  ;    and  the   epithet  is 
peculiarly  appropriate  to  his,  which  do  indeed  seem  to  fly,  so 
rapid  and  light  is  their  motion,  and  which  have  been  flying 
ever  since  over  the  whole  peopled  earth,  and  still  hover  and 
brood  over  many  an  awakened  soul.     Latin  marches,  Italian 
struts,  French  hops,  English  walks,  German  rumbles  along. 
The  music  of  Klopstock's  hexameter  is  not  unlike  the  tune 
with  which  a  broad-wheeled  wagon  tries  to  solace  itself  when 
crawling  down  a  hill.     But  Greek  flies,  especially  in  Homer, 
— Hare. 

(17)  I  am  a  Royalist,  I  blushed  for  the  degradation  of  thj 
crown.     I  am  a  Whig,  I  blushed  for  the  dishonor  of  Parlia- 
ment.    I  am  a  true  Englishman,  I  felt  to  the  quick  for  the 
disgrace  of  England.     I  am  a  man,  I  felt  for  the  melancholy 
icverse  of  human  affairs  in  the  fall  of  the  first  power  iD  the 
world. — Bwrke. 


EXERCISES.  291 

18)  To  one  so  gifted  with  the  prodigality  of  heaven  can 
we  appioach  in  any   other  attitude  than  of   prostration.— 
Qilfillan. 
(19)  Nor  durst  begin 

To  speak,  but  wisely  kept  the  fool  within.— Dryden. 
(SO)    Walk  thoughtful  on  the  silent,  solemn  shore 
Of  that  vast  ocean  it  must  sail  so  soon  ; 
And  put  good  works  on  board  ;  and  wait  the  wind 
That  shortly  blows  us  unto  worlds  unknown. —  Young. 

(21)  I  bridle  in  my  struggling  muse  with  pain, 

That  longs  to  launch  into  a  nobler  strain. — Addison. 

(22)  I  will  bury  myself  in  my  books,  and  the  Devil  may  pipe 

to  his  own. — Tennyson. 

(23)  The  mind  of  Elizabeth  was  like  one  of  those  ancient 
Druidical  monuments  called  rocking-stones.     The  finger  of 
Cupid,  boy  as  he  is  painted,  could  put  her  feelings  in  motion  ; 
but  the  power  of  Hercules   could  not  have  destroyed  their 
equilibrium.  — Scott. 

(24)  I  was  sailing  in  a  vast  ocean  without  other  help  than 
the  pole-star  of  the  ancients,  and  the  rules  of  the  French  stage 
among  the  moderns. — Dryden. 

(25)  He  [Cromwell]  set  up  Parliaments  by  the  stroke  of 
his  pen,  and  scattered  them  with  the  breath  of  his  mouth.— 
Cowley. 

(26)  Men  may  come,  and  men  may  go, 

But  I  [the  brook]  go  on  forever. — Tennyson* 

(27)  So  frowned  the  mighty  combatants,  that  hell 
Grew  darker  at  their  frown. — Milton. 

(28)  Yon  row  of  visionary  pines, 

By  twilight  glimpse  discovered  1  Mark  how  they  fle« 
From  the  fierce  sea-blast,  all  their  tresses  wild 
Streaming  before  them. —  Wordsworth. 

(29)  Talent  convinces  ;  Genius  but  excites  : 

This  tasks  the  reason  ;  that  the  soul  delights. 
Talent  from  sober  judgment  takes  its  birth, 
And  reconciles  the  pinion  to  the  earth  ; 


292  .        THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

Genius  unsettles  with  desires  tte  mind, 

Contented  not  till  earth  be  left  behind. 

Talent,  the  sunshine  on  a  cultured  soil, 

Ripens  the  fruit  by  slow  degrees  for  toil ; 

Genius  the  golden  Iris  of  the  skies, 

On  cloud  itself  reflects  its  wondrous  dyes, 

And  to  the  earth  in  tears  and  glory  given, 

Clasps  in  its  airy  arch  the  pomp  of  heaven. — Bulwer. 

(30)  The  moral  and  political  system  of  Hobbes  was  u  pal- 
ace of  ice  :  transparent,  exactly  proportioned,  majestic,  ad- 
mired by  the  unwary  as  a  delightful  dwelling  ;  but  gradually 
undermined  by  the  central  warmth  of  human  feeling,  before 
it  was  thawed  into  muddy  water  by  the  sunshine  of  true 
philosophy.  — Mackintosh. 

(31)  And  it  came  to  pass  at  noon  that  Elijah  mocked  them 
and  said,  uCry  aloud  ;  for  he  is  a  god  :  either  he  is  talking, 
or  he  is  pursuing,  or  he  is  in  a  journey,  or  peradventure  he 
sleepeth,  and  must  be  awaked." — Bible. 

(32)  The  universal  host  upsent 

A  shout  that  tore  Hell's  concave,  and  beyond 
Frighted  the  reign  of  Chaos  and  old  Night. — Milton. 

(33)  There  is  a  period  in  the  history  of  Europe  when  every 
commotion  on  its  surface  was  occasioned  by  one  cause  deeply 
seated,  like  the  internal  fire  that  is  supposed  to  have  produced 
the  earthquake  of  Lisbon.     This  cause  was  the  Reformation. 
From  1520  to  1649  the  Reformation  was  the  great  lever  of 
Europe. — Loi*d  John  Russell. 

(34)  Wit  laughs  at  things  ;   Humor  laughs  with  them. 
Wit  lashes  external  appearances,  or  cunningly  exaggerates 
single  foibles  into  character  ;  Humor  glides  into  the  heart  of 
its  o'bjects,  looks  lovingly  on  the  infirmities  it  detects,  and 
represents  the  whole  man.     Wit  is  abrupt,  darting,  scornful, 
and  tosses  its  analogies  in  your  face  ;  Humor  is  slow  and  shy, 
Insinuating  its  fun  into  your  heart.     Wit  is  negative,  analyk 
ical,  destructive  ;  Humor  is  creative.  —  WMpple. 


EXERCISES.  293 

(85)     As  in  the  hollow  breast  of  Apennine, 
Beneath  the  shelter  of  encircling  hills, 
A  myrtle  rises,  far  from  human  eyes, 
And  breathes  its  balmy  fragrance  on  the  wild  • 
So  flourished,  blooming  and  unseen  by  all, 
The  sweet  Lavinia. — Pope. 

(36)  He  [Gower]  is  the  Undertaker  of  the  fair  mediaeval 
legend  ;   and  his  style  has  the  hateful,  the  seemingly  un- 
natural length  of  a  coffin. — Lowell. 

(37)  He  did  not  establish  a  throne  surrounded  by  repub- 
lican institutions,  but  a  republic  surrounded  by  the  ghost  ol 
monarchical  institutions.  — Alison. 

(38)  Language  is  the  amber  in  which  a  thousand  precious 
thoughts  have  been  safely  imbedded  and  preserved. — Trench. 

(39)  O  for  a  beaker  full  of  the  warm  South.— Keats. 

19.  Point  out  the  faults  in  the  following  sentences 
in  their  effect  upon  the  Feelings. 

(1)  That  man  made  me  miss  my  mark. — Alison. 

(2)  St.  Augustine  lived  holily  and  godlily. 

(3)  It  is  quite  proper  that  a  character  should  be  pervaded 
by  a  spirit  of  humility,  but  this  feeling  should  never  be  al- 
lowed to  degenerate  into  servility. 

(4)  Antony  has  done  his  part.     He  holds  the  gorgeous 
East  in  fee.     He  has  revenged  Crassus.     He  will  make  kings, 
though  he  be  none.     He  is  amusing  himself,  and  Rome  must 
bear  with  him.     He  has  his  griefs  as  well  as  Caesar.     Let  the 
sword  settle  their  disputes.     But  he  is  no  longer  the  man  to 
leave  Cleopatra  behind. 

(5)  The  general  idea  of  good  or  bad  fortune,  therefore, 
creates  some  concern  for  the  person  who  has  met  with  it  ;  but 
the  general  idea  of  provocation  excites  no  sympathy  with  the 
anger  of  the  man  who  has  received  it.     Nature,   it  seems, 
teaches  us  to  be  more  averse  to  enter  into  this  passion,  and 
till  informed  of  its  cause,  to  be  disposed  rather  to  take  part 
•gainst  it. 


294  THE  SCIEKCE  OF   KHETORIC. 

(0)  And  those  that  leave  their  valiant  bones  in  Fiance, 
Dying  like  men,  though  buried  in  your  dunghills, 
They  shall  be  famed  ;  for  there  the  sun  shall  greet  them, 
And  draw  their  reeking  honors  up  to  heaven. — Shakespcart 

.7   Loud  as  a  bull  makes  hill  and  valley  ring, 

So  roared  the  lock  when  it  released  the  spring. — Pope. 

fc   Superior  beings,  when  of  late  they  saw 
A  mortal  man  unfold  all  nature's  law, 
Admired  such  wisdom  in  an  earthly  shape, 
And  showed  a  Newton  as  we  show  an  ape. — Pope. 

II. 

EXERCISES  IN  CONSTRUCTION. 

WHILE  great  importance  is  attached  to  the  preced- 
ing exercises  in  criticism,  it  is  believed  to  be  of  still 
greater  moment  that  every  student  should  be  able  to 
realize  a  high  degree  of  excellence  in  his  own  composi- 
tions. To  this  end  the  teacher  should  insist  upon  a 
-igid  drill  in  the  following  constructive  exercises. 

Although  not  strictly  within  the  province  of  the 
rhetorician,  filling  the  mind  with  valuable  ideas  should 
not  be  overlooked.  Facts  and'the  mental  combination 
of  facts  by  reflection  upon  them  are  the  forces  whicl 
produce  changes  in  the  minds  of  men.  The  rhetori 
cian's  art  is  feeble  and  even  pernicious  unless  it  be  joined 
with  a  competent  understanding  of  the  subject-matter 
treated.  The  sources  of  information  are  (1)  observa- 
tion, (2)  reflection,  (3)  conversation,  and  (4)  reading. 
These  are  the  sources  of  culture,  and  it  is  culture 
which  makes  rhetorical  power  truly  effective.  Rhet- 
oric is  but  a  method.  The  artist  must  have  material  ot 
his  skill  is  of  little  value. 


EXERCISES.  295 

1.  Lot  the  learner  mention  subjects  suitable  for  the 
following  classes  of  hearers  or  readers,  and  state  what 
chief  qualities  the  treatment  should  possess. 

(1)  A  Sunday  school.  (2)  A  political  mass-meeting.  (3)  A 
philosophical  society.  (4)  An  American  jury.  (5)  A  collide 
literary  society  at  its  anniversary.  (6)  An  educated  Christian 
church.  (7)  A  workingmen's  association.  (8)  An  infuriated 
mob.  (9)  Fashionable  novel  readers.  (10)  A  "popular  lec- 
ture audience." 

2.  Let  the  student  make  an  analysis  of  the  follow- 
ing themes  in  Description. 

(1)  The  Inland  Waters  of  the  United  States. 

(2)  An  Ocean  Steamer. 

(3)  The  most  important  Public  Building  in  the  town. 

(4)  The  Emotion  of  Patriotism. 

(5)  The  Love  of  Justice. 

(6)  The  Sentiment  of  Friendship. 

(7)  The  Character  of  Julius  Csesar. 
'$)  The  Character  of  Xenophon. 

.9)  The  Character  of  Abraham  Lincoln. 
(10)  True  Manhood. 

3.  Write  an  outline  of  the  following  thenues  in 
Narration. 

(1)  My  School  Life. 

(2)  The  Punic  Wars. 

(3)  The  Life  of  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

(4)  The  Battle  of  Waterloo. 

(5)  The  Literature  of  the  Age  of  Elizabeth. 

(6)  The  Discovery  of  America. 

(7)  The  History  of  Greece  in  the  Time  of  Pericles. 

(8)  The  Story  of  the  Holy  Grail. 

(9)  The  Carboniferous  Age. 

(10)  The  Genesis  of  Civilization. 


296  THE   SCIENCE   OF   RHETORIC. 

4.  Define  the  following  Terms. 

(1)  Flattery.  (2)  Printing.  (3)  Geography.  (4)  Music, 
^5)  Procrastination.  (6)  Education.  (7)  Philosophy.  (8) 
Science.  (9)  Generosity.  (10)  Perception.  (11)  Language* 
(12)  History.  (13)  A  year.  (14)  Autobiography.  (15)  Man, 

5.  Divide   the   classes   denoted    by  the  following 
Terms  into   species,  according  to  some  principle  of 
your  own  selection. 

(1)  Words.  (2)  Sentences.  ^3)  Languages.  (4)  Men.  (5) 
Americans.  (6)  The  Sciences.  (7)  Merchants.  (8)  Mechanics. 
(9)  Celestial  bodies.  (10)  Bodies  of  water.  (11)  Occupations. 
(12)  Sources  of  happiness.  (13)  Sources  of  value.  (14)  Gov- 
ernments. (15)  Religions.  (16)  Amusements. 

6.  Explicate  the  following  propositions  by  Defini- 
tion or  Division. 

(1)  Prosperity  depends  on  morality. 

(2)  Models  improve  practice. 

(3)  Labor  is  necessary  to  success. 

(4)  The  press  ought  to  be  truthful. 

(5)  Luxury  is  destructive  of  liberty. 

(6)  Climate  affects  character. 

(7)  The  fine  arts  are  beneficial  to  civilizatioi 

(8)  Godliness  is  profitable  unto  all  things. 

(9)  Anxiety  shortens  life. 

(10)  Love  is  the  strongest  bond  of  union. 

7.  Prove  the  following  propositions  by  arguments 
from  Cause  to  Effect. 

(1)  Aaron  Burr  was  a  conspirator  against  his  country. 

(2)  Bonaparte,  were  he  liting,  would  change  the  geography 
of  Europe. 

(3)  The  Government  of  the   United   States  will  endure 
forever. 

(4)  The  Christian  religion  will  ultimately  be  universal, 

(5)  Shakespeare  could  have  been  a  great  orator. 


EXERCISES.  291 

8.  Prove  the   following  propositions  by  argument* 
from  Sign, 

(1)  The  globe  has  existed  for  ages  longer  than  man. 

(2)  There  was  civilization  in  Egypt  four  thousand  year* 
tgo. 

(3)  Man  is  an  infinitely  progressive  being. 

(4)  It  is  right  to  punish  the  murderer  with  death. 

(5)  Jesus  Christ  rose  from  the  dead. 

9.  Prove  the  following  propositions  by  argument* 
from  Eesemblance. 

(1)  Every  language  has  its  idioms. 

(2)  Many  benefits  result  from  Invention. 

(3)  The  drama  is  an  early  form  of  literature. 

(4)  Human  life  is  transitory. 

(5)  A  precocious  genius  seldom  becomes  mature. 

(6)  Perseverance  ends  in  success. 

10.  The  following  questions  may  be  discussed  ir 
class,  according  to  the  principles  given  in  the  text,  the 
teacher  presiding  as  critic,  and  pointing  out  errors  in 
the  conduct  of  the  discussion. 

(1)  Resolved,  That  the  State  should  superintend  all  educa- 
tion within  its  borders. 

(2)  Resolved,  That  the  Electoral  System  of  choosing  the 
President  of  the  United  States  should  be  abolished. 

(3 )  Resolved,  That  the  physical  sciences  are  more  conducive 
to  the  highest  prosperity  of  the  race  than  the  mental  sciences. 

(4)  Resolved,  That  the  highest  development  of  science  and 
literature  in  the  same  individual  is  impossible. 

(5)  Resolved,  That  the  death  penalty  should  be  abolished. 

1L  While  original  composition  is  on  the  whole  the 
best  exercise  on  tha  laws  of  form,  several  easier  processes 
are  helpful  in  acquiring  skill  in  expressing  ideas. 
Some  of  these  will  be  mentioned. 

(1}  A  Paraphrase  consists  in  giving  the  exact  thought  of  a 
13* 


298  THE  SCIENCE  OF  RHETORIC. 

writer  in  different  language.  When  poetry  is  turned  intc 
prose  it  is  called  Metaphrase.  If  the  principles  of  Style  are 
constantly  kept  in  mind,  it  may  prove  a  very  profitable  exer- 
cise. The  extracts  given  in  the  Exercises  in  Criticism  maj 
X3  used  foi  this  purpose. 

(2)  Abridgment  consists  in  giving  the  substance  of  a  com- 
position in  fewer  words.     It  is  an  aid  in  forming  a  terse, 
compact  style,  and  should  be  frequently  practiced.     The  fol- 
lowing points  are  necessary  to  a  good  abridgment  : 

(a)  Give  all  the  essentials,  omitting  minor  details  ; 
(&)  Give  them  accurately  and  concisely  ; 
(c)  Give  nothing  not  in  the  original  work. 

(3)  Translation  consists  in   expressing  ideas  in  another 
language  with  the  same  clearness  and  force  as  they  possess  in 
the  original.     A  good  translation  requires  the  observance  of 
the  following  rules  : 

(a)  The  translation  must  represent  the  sense  of  the  original 
without  omission  or  addition. 

(&)  It  must  be  idiomatic  ;  L  e.  to  an  ordinary  reader  con- 
versant only  with  the  language  in  which  the  translation  is 
made,  it  should  appear  to  be  a  native  production  in  word  and 
phrase. 

(c)  It  must  possess  the  general  spirit  of  the  original,  as  re- 
gards simplicity,  grace,  magnificence,  and  other  qualities. 

Extemporaneous  translation  is  recommended  by  Mr. 
Marsh  as  a  help  to  the  acquisition  of  a  wide  vocabulary. 

12.  The  end  of  all  constructive  effort  is  Original 
Composition.  The  best  way  to  acquire  good  habits  of 
expression  is  to  write  much  and  carefully.  The  Grst 
efforts  in  any  art  must  be  self-conscious,  but  habit  soon 
controls  us  almost  entirely,  and  we  write  well  or  ill 
according  as  we  have  been  trained.  Principles  will 
at  first  retard  our  fluency  and,  possibly,  even  give  an 
air  of  artificiality  to  our  expression  ;  but  gracefulness 
and  power  will  finally  vindicate  Art,  and  prove  her 


EXERCISES.  299 

only  a  perfected  Nature.     A  few  brief  suggestions  may 
assist  the  composer  : 

(1)  Select  a  theme  which  interests  you. 

(2)  Think  about  it  until  you  have  started  questions  which 
fou  cannnot  answer. 

(3)  Seek  these  answers  froin  men  and  libraries. 

(4)  Form  your  own  opinions  distinctly. 

(5)  Prepare  a  full  analysis  before  you  write. 

(6)  Follow  faithfully  the  laws  of  expression. 

(7)  Lay  your  composition  aside,  if  possible,  until  its  con 
tents  are  out  of  your  mind. 

(8)  Criticise  it  as  if  you  were  not  its  author,  and  be  sure 
(hat  you  understand  just  what  you  meant  to  say. 


ABBTRACTNESS  of  words,  177. 
Accusations  in  debate,  137. 
Adverbs,  position  of,  182. 
^Esthetics,  its  relation  to  rhetoric, 

38. 

Age,  as  a  modifier  of  mind,  63. 
Allegory,  forms  allied  to,  223. 

laws  of,  224. 

nature  of,  222. 

Ambiguity  from  position,  182. 
Analogues,  169. 
Analogy,  argument  from,  125. 
Analysis,  value  of,  201,  93. 
Antithesis,  laws  of,  240. 

natural  form  of,  239. 

nature  of,  238. 
Apostrophe,  233. 
Arguments,  a  priori,  110. 

arrangement  of,  131. 

divisions  of,  107. 

from  resemblance,  120. 

from  sign,  113. 

rhetorical  use  of,  107. 

use  of  different  classes,  130. 
Arrangement  of  arguments,  131. 
Art,  restrictions  of  formal,  26. 
Audience,  relation  of  speaker  to, 

68. 

Authority,  as  an  argument,  118, 
A  athority  in  debate,  138. 

BALANCED  sentences,  198. 
Barbarism,  157. 


Beauty,  relation  of  to  rhetoric,  5. 
Blair's  treatment  of  rhetoric,  3. 

CAUSE,  argument  from,  110. 

proof  of,  115. 

Causal  words,  ambiguity  of,  lit. 
Chances,  calculation  of,  114. 
Circumlocution,  176. 
Clearness,  6. 

too  great,  136. 
Climax,  240. 

in  sound  and  sense,  260. 
Collateral  ideas,  194. 
Comprehension,  96. 
Concession  in  debate,  127. 
Confirmation,  130. 
Consonants,  cumulation  of,  247. 
Contiguity,   figures    founded    on, 

225. 
Contrast,  essentials  of  a,  288. 

figures  founded  on,  238. 

the  theory  of,  237. 

DEFINITION,  kinds  of,  98. 

laws  of,  99. 

nature  of,  97. 
"Description,  kinds  of,  76. 

laws  of,  75. 

nature  of,  75. 

Development  of  an  idea,  198,  199, 
Diction,  155. 
Discourse,  essential  elements  o£ 

19. 


302 


INDEX. 


Discussion,  conduct  of  a,  126; 
Disposition,   relation  of  to  rhet 

oric,  4. 
Division,  kinds  of,  IOC. 

laws  of,  101. 

nature  of,  97. 
Drawing,  24. 

ELLIPSIS,  189 

Elocution,  relation  of  to  rhetoric, 

5,38. 
Emotions,  co-existent,  230. 

relation  of  to  knowledge,  235. 

[see  Feelings]. 
Emphasis,  177. 
Epigram,  241. 
Example,  argument  from,  121. 

illustrative,  122. 

invented,  122. 
Exclamation,  231. 
Experience,  general  and  special, 

67. 

inferred,  67. 

nature  of,  66. 
Explicit  reference,  200. 
Exposition,  forms  of,  95. 

nature,  o^  $5. 

of  question,  127. 
Expression,  modes  of,  24. 
Extension,  96. 

FABLE,    distinguished   from  alle- 
gory, 224. 

Familiarity  of  words,  155. 
Feelings,  classification  of,  52. 

economy  of,  244. 

involuntary,  54. 

Hamilton's  theory  of,  244. 

modification  of,  59. 

production  of,  54. 
Figures,  classes  of,  203. 

definition  of,  203. 

founded  on  resemblance,  205. 


Figures,  harmony  ot,  261. 

number  of,  255,  261 . 

source  of,  262. 

value  of,  204. 

variety  of,  255,  261. 
Foot-note,  189. 

GENERAL  words,  164. 

Grammar,  its  relation  to  rhetoric 

38. 
Grammatical  relations  of  word*., 

190. 

HARMONY,  256. 
Homonyms,  167. 
Hyperbole,  232. 

IDEAS,  kinds  of,  73. 

modes  of  expressing,  24. 
Imagination,  rhetorical  use  of,  49 
Imitation  of  sounds,  256 
Inclusion  of  words,  163. 
Induction,  methods,  123. 

nature  of,  123. 

Interpretation,  process  of,  144. 
Interrogation,  242. 
Introduction,  design  of,  128. 

kinds  of,  129. 
Invention,  relation  of  to  rhetono. 

6. 
Irony,  242. 

LANGUAGE,  ambiguity  of,  118. 
an  impediment  in  expression, 
32. 

as  a  mode  of  expression,  25. 
its  origin  and  progress,  5. 
its  relation  to  thought,  19. 
its  symbolic  character.  80. 
of  mental  states,  80. 
restrictions  of,  29. 
uncertainty  of  as  a  median^ 
81. 


INDEX. 


303 


Length  of  words,  160. 

Lessing's   limitation  of  language, 

29. 

Logic,  its  relation  to  rhetoric,  38. 
Loose  sentences,  197. 

MEMOBY,  rhetorical  use  of,  50. 
Metaphor,  based  on  analogy,  214. 

laws  of,  215. 

nature  of,  213. 

superiority  of  to  simile,  214. 

value  of,  217. 
Meter,  adaptation  of  to  poetry,  252 

not  a  violation  of  variety,  253. 

value  of,  251. 
Metonymv,  forms  of,  228. 

law  of,  230. 

Modifying  effect  of  words,  181. 
Myth  distinguished  from  allegory, 

224. 
Myths,  origin  of,  218. 

NABBATION,  laws  of,  86. 

nature  of,  86. 
New  words,  formation  of,  159. 

use  of,  157. 

OBJECTIONS,  place  for  answering, 

138. 

treatment  of,  135. 
Obscurity  from  position,  185. 

intentional,  147. 

PAINTING,  as  a  mode  of  expression, 

24. 
Parable  distinguished  from  fable, 

224. 

Parenthesis,  187. 
Parenthetical  expressions,  186. 
Particles,  splitting  of,  185. 
Partition,  100. 
Party  spirit,  69. 
Periodic  sentences,  197. 


Personification,  nature  of,  218. 
in  oratory,  220. 
forms  of,  221. 
natural  to  man,  '2T.». 

Perspicuity,  excessive,  148. 

Poetry,  definitions  of,  84. 

Position  of  words,  177. 

Precision,  6. 

Probability,  how  established,  112 

Progressive  development,  199. 

Pronouns,  position  of,  183. 

Propriety,  6. 

Prose,  definition  of,  36. 

Proximity  of  words,  181. 

Psychology,  its  relation  to  rhet- 
oric, 38. 

Purity,  6. 

QUESTION,  preparation  of,  126. 

REDUNDANCY,  175. 

Refutation,    cautions   concerning 

136. 

modes  of,  133. 
Resemblance,  argument  from,  120 

essential,  120. 
Rhetoric,  definition  of,  37. 

departments  of,  39. 

province  of,  37. 

synopsis  of,  40. 
Rhyme,  absence  of  in  classics,  248 

adaptation  of  to  poetry,  250. 
Rhyming  words  in  English,  249 

Italian,  249. 

Spanish,  249. 

SAXON,  value  of,  illustrated,  16*. 
Sculpture,  25. 
Sentences,  balanced,  198. 

combination  of,  198. 

conditions  of  their  structure, 

151. 

length  of,  191,  254. 


304 


INDEX. 


Sentences,  loose,  197. 

structure  of,  254. 

periodic,  197. 
Sentiments,  scheme  of,  53 
Sign,  argument  from,  113. 
bimile,  kinds  of,  20€. 

laws  of,  209. 

Speaker,  relation  of  to  audience,  68 
Specific  words,  164. 
Squinting  construction,  182,  184. 
Style,  excellence  of  relative,  33. 

general  law  of,  147. 

of  legal  acts,  152. 

national  types  of,  152. 
Suggeativeness,  193. 
Summary,  value  of  in  history,  94. 
Synecdoche,  227. 

TAflTE,  relation  of  to  rhetoric,  5. 
Tautology,  174. 
Tautophony,  248. 
Testimony,  115. 
Theme,  necessity  of,  201. 
Theremin's  treatment  of  rhetoric,3. 
Thought,  its  relation  to  language, 

19. 

laws  of,  45. 

UKITY  of  idea,  195. 

of  structure,  196 
Use,  law  of,  159. 


VABIBTT,  applications  oi,  246. 

in  style,  246. 

necessity  of,  246. 
Versification,  apart  of  grammar,  81 
Vision,  234. 
Vivacity,  6. 
Vowels,  cumulation  of,  247. 

WHATELY'S  treatmentof  rhetoric,3. 
Witnesses,  adverse,  117. 

character  of,  116. 

concurrent,  116. 

number  of,  116. 
Words,  abstract,  177. 

associations  of,  171. 

effect  of  on  thoughts,  171. 

effect  of  on  sensibilities,  244, 

emphatic,  177. 

familiarity  of,  155. 

formation  of  new,  159. 

grammatical  relations  of,  11K 

implication  of,  171. 

inclusion  of,  163. 

length  of,  160. 

modifying  effect  of,  181. 

number  of,  173. 

position  of,  177. 

Saxon,  162. 

specific  and  general,  164. 

use  of  new,  157. 

YOUTH  as  a  modifier  of  mind,  61 


RETURN  TO  the  circulation  desk  of  any 
University  of  California  Library 

or  to  the 

NORTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
Bldg.  400,  Richmond  Field  Station 
University  of  California 
Richmond,  CA  94804-4698 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

•  2-month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling 
(510)642-6753 

•  1-year  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing 
books  to  NRLF 

•  Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4 
days  prior  to  due  date. 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 

DEC  07 1999 


12,000(11/95) 


I 


U.C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


C  0  3  1 1  2  6  5  T  6 


